For all eyes to see
by FiftyShadesOfJess
Summary: The CEO and the stripper – sounds like a kinky fairytale, doesn't it? Well, this particular CEO happens to be 50 shades of fucked up and the stripper he's infatuated with…well, she's nothing like he'd expected a stripper to be like. Ana's background story will be different in this fic, otherwise the characters are the same.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: The CEO and the stripper – sounds like a kinky fairytale, doesn't it? Well, this particular CEO happens to be 50 shades of fucked up and the stripper he's infatuated with…well, she's nothing like he'd expected a stripper to be like. Ana's background story will be different in this fic, otherwise the characters are the same.

I don't own the characters – I just enjoy writing about them!

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**For all eyes to see - Chapter 1**

* * *

Stepping into the club I sigh deeply and am rewarded with a glare from Elliot. I roll my eyes. _I obliged and came here, okay? Never said I would enjoy it._ I hate strip clubs. In my opinion, they're sleazy and even though the girls in a place like this, where the standards are comparatively high, are actually quite often good-looking the thought of a bunch of men drooling over the same girl at the same time is kind of revolting.

I follow Elliot to a table near one of the three stages. I can't believe I let him talk me into this. But Elliot has persuasive powers yet to be excelled. I shake my head as I sit down at the table and a blonde girl in a white skirt that covers nothing and a matching top that covers just about her nipples comes to take our orders.

I order a scotch and wait as Elliot flirts with the waitress before placing his order. Of course, never mind that she's an almost naked waitress at a strip club – Elliot never misses out on an opportunity to flirt. I shake my head in disbelief as the girl giggles – _really, giggles? What is she, 5?_ – before she leaves with our orders.

"Come on, big bro" Elliot smiles, he knows I hate it when he calls me that. "Relax"

I offer him a smile that I literally have to force onto my lips. This will be a long evening.

* * *

Three scotches and two beers later I am actually starting to feel more relaxed. I still wish we'd gone to a normal club, now that Elliot insisted we go clubbing in the first place, but I'm starting to get used to the surroundings and the girl on stage right now is actually pretty hot.

She has a killer body, light dark hair flowing right beneath her shoulders and the moves she's making on that pole – I would love to see her suspended from the ceiling in my playroom, she seems to be well acquainted with the feeling of not having her feet touching the ground.

Not that I would ever take a stripper into my playroom. No. A girl that hundreds of men are drooling at every night? Definitely not my cup of tea. I don't like sharing.

No. She's good for fantasies, nothing more.

I lean over the table to get Elliot's attention. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom" I inform him and he nods without taking his eyes off the girl on stage. I don't even know why he bothers visiting places like this. My brother is quite the Casanova and he has no problems getting girls into bed with him, quite the contrary – he has a problem with getting them to leave his bed once he's tired of them.

In the bathroom I take a look at my Blackberry and notice the time. In about half an hour I can probably excuse myself and head home. With that thought in mind I leave the bathroom and start making my way back to our table.

I glance over at the other two stages and I top dead in my tracks. The girl on the stage closest to the bathrooms is absolutely beautiful. Her dark brown hair is pulled into a braid that falls on her back making a very nice contrast to her pale skin. She's still wearing a light blue lace bra and matching panties and as she turns her face in my direction I see how the color accentuates her big, blue eyes.

I don't think I've ever seen eyes like that before. They're amazing and I feel my cock stir in my pants. _Really? In a place like this he wakes up at the sight of a stripper's eyes?_

I take a few steps closer. I can't seem to tear my eyes away from her. The way she sways her body on stage is hypnotizing and I know I'm probably looking like a total perv the way I'm staring at her, but I can't help myself. Besides, in a place like this, I'm in good company with my perv-like stares.

I notice she never gains eye-contact with any of the men staring at her. From what I've seen so far, the other strippers have gone out of their ways to make as much eye-contact as possible – probably to make the men watching them think they stand a chance and make them stay longer.

But this girl, she seems to be in her own world, not even noticing the customers ogling her. There's something innocent and sweet about that._ Innocent and sweet? Two words I would never imagined using at a strip club._ It's like she's dancing for herself, stroking her hands along her body because she wants to feel their touch, not because she wants to arouse the men looking at her.

She smiles seductively to herself as she slowly starts pulling the straps of her bra down from her shoulders and I'm torn between the want to rush up on stage and cover her from the eyes of all the men staring at her and the curiosity to let her continue and reveal what's underneath all that lace.

Carefully, she removes the bra and I find myself holding my breath in anticipation. Her breasts are pure perfection. She cups her hands around them and sinks her teeth into her lower lip before tilting her head back and slowly turning around, graceful like a ballerina.

_How did I not notice those lips before?_ I would love to sink _my_ teeth into them. Or see them wrapped around my cock as she kneels before me.

I can't believe I'm standing here getting a hard-on at a strip club. I have to divert my thoughts.

In the corner of my eye I see the girl that waited on our table earlier and I call her attention. "Who's the girl on the stage?" I ask with a nod towards the marvelous creature that is now swinging her body slowly around the pole.

The waitress casts a glance on stage and smiles. "That's Rose"

Rose. Probably a stage-name, but at least that's something. I have to meet her. Talk to her. Touch that skin; see if it feels as soft as it looks. My cock twitches at the thought. _God, to have her tied up in front of me, begging me to touch that delicious skin._

"She doesn't do private dances" The waitress adds as an afterthought. "But I could point you in the direction of someone with the same physical attributes that does"

"No thank you" I answer without taking my eyes off the stage.

Suddenly, the song ends and instead of a new one starting, 'Rose' exits the stage. No! I feel deprived. I stare at the curtain she disappeared behind, willing her to come back out on stage. But there's no sight of her and a few minutes later another girl enters the stage.

"Where have you been?" Elliot looks up as I return to our table.

"I got caught up" I explain and to my great relief he doesn't pry any further.

All thoughts about leaving the club disappeared the moment I saw her on stage. I can't leave now. Maybe she'll do another performance. Maybe I'll get a chance to see her again.

I order another scotch and move my chair so I can see all three stages from where I'm sitting.

* * *

Hours later, I stumble into my bedroom and crash on top of my bed. I usually don't drink this much but when the club closed and s_he_ hadn't come back on stage, Elliot and I went to an all-night open bar and I tried my very best to drown out the image of her with the help of tequila shots.

It didn't work.

A fucking stripper. A girl that shows off her body to paying customers for a living, and I've become obsessed with the thought of fucking her. Of possessing her body. Of making her mine.

Oh, that pale skin would look fucking delicious as it turns to pink under the workings of my hand…or my crop…or my paddle…

And her eyes…to see them burning with lust and desire as I take her closer and closer to the edge. My cock is throbbing at the images displayed in my mind. I got to have her.

Somehow I finally manage to fall into a restless sleep; I probably have the tequila to thank for that.

* * *

It's obvious sleep or my constant night-terrors have done nothing to rid my thoughts of the beautiful girl that teased me and about fifteen other men with her delicious body last night.

I need to know who she is. I know it's crazy; she's a stripper for fuck's sake. _But oh, to have those eyes looking at me and that body seducing me with its moves before I flog and fuck her._ I'm getting hard just thinking about it.

Letting my cock get the better of me, I reach for my phone and dial. I haven't even gotten up from bed yet, but I can't wait. I need to know who she is.

"Welch?" I bark into the receiver the moment he picks up. "I need you to find someone for me. She strips at 'Midnight Madness' under the name of Rose; I'm guessing that's a stage name." I'm hoping that's a stage name and I shudder at the thought of it being her real name, making it easy for all those drooling men at the club to track her down. "I want a full disclosure, standard procedure."

I have to find out who she is, even if that means I have to buy the fucking club!

I lean my head back against the pillows. I must be out of my fucking mind!


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to all of those that have review and/or followed and favorite my story!

This is a very short chapter, but because of my author's note below, I wanted to get it out as soon as possible.

A couple of reviews have told me that there's a similar story out there with Ana working as a stripper. I had no idea – and hopefully I and the author of the other story will take our stories in different directions from that point on.

I would like to send a thank you to the guest-reviewer that pointed me in direction of that story (New Colored Shades, if anyone would like to check it out, I intend to once I'm done with my story).  
I've skimmed through it (I didn't want to read it and subconsciously be inspired to take my story in the same direction) But I think we have different plots in mind for our stories, at least judging by the parts I did read.

I've also sent a PM to the author of that story to assure him/her about my honorable, non-plagiarizing intentions.

Instead, the inspiration to this story comes from a story from another fandom completely. The story I'm talking about is B Cardoso's _Sex or Love_, written for the Gilmore Girls fandom. It's the most amazing story I've ever read and if my story would turn out to be even half as good – I would be beyond pleased!

If you like Gilmore Girls and the pairing Jess/Rory – you most definitely should read it – it's amazing!

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**For all eyes to see – Chapter 2**

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Anastasia Rose Steele. I say the name quiet to myself. Anastasia. I like that name. I like the way the syllables rolls of my tongue. Anastasia.

I open the folder Welch handed me to look over the information again. 21 years old. Both parents dead. She graduated high school with honors and her SAT results are quite honorable as well. No mention of any further studies.

She works daytimes as a waitress in a café not far from where I work and at nights and weekends she works as a stripper at Midnight Madness. She has a bank account with only a couple of hundred dollars on it and a savings account containing quite an impressive sum.

I keep reading, her official records of jobs, education and economic status was rather easy for Welch to dig up. Her personal life and likings on the other hand is tainted with the word: unknown.

Religious affiliation: unknown  
Political affiliation: unknown  
Sexual orientation: unknown  
Relationships: unknown

That one little word bothers me. I hate not knowing. And ever since I saw the delicious Miss Steele up on that stage I can't seem to get her out of my mind. Three days have passed and still, every time I close my eyes – there she is. Dancing, teasing, looking right at me with those amazingly blue eyes.

I've been looking over the little information Welch was able to find about her more times than I like to admit. Yesterday I found myself sitting in a meeting wondering what she'd look like performing that dance for me, only me, and out of her little bubble, aware of me watching her. _That never happens!_ I take my work seriously and I've never lost focus in a meeting like that before.

It's like she's got me under some kind of spell and I'm driven by the need to see her again. I need to know if she will look just as fantastic and beautiful when I'm not under the influence of alcohol.

I put the folder down and grab the phone. "Andrea, cancel or post-pone all meetings for the rest of the afternoon" I can practically see my secretary's jaw drop as she answers: "Yes, Mr. Grey"

In the rare occasions I decide to take the afternoon of, it's usually done with meticulous planning to make sure things run smooth while I'm away. But the info clearly stated that Anastasia works _day_time at that café. I can't wait until I'm done with my meetings for the day and risk her not being there.

Hopefully it'll turn out I had a severe case of beer-goggles at the club and I can carry on with my life without having her dancing around in my mind 24/7.

* * *

_I'm a fucking idiot. What the hell am I doing here?_ I lean my forehead against the wheel. I've never sought out a woman like this before. Usually, they come to me. _And usually, due to the nature of our relation, they are well aware of what they are stepping into._

Not that that's a problem. I'm not entertaining the thought of making her my submissive. Not seriously at least. I can't have her as a submissive, knowing that a large part of the male population of the appropriate age in Seattle has seen her naked. Probably including my own brother, as I'm guessing that wasn't his first time visiting that club.

It just wouldn't work. I'd be fucking ready to be committed if I ever thought for even the split of a second that she could be my submissive. No. I just have to see her again, sober and in the clear daylight – that's all.

I take a deep breath to steady myself as I step out the car and head towards the entrance of the café. I feel like a teenager; skipping work just to sit at a café and ogle a girl I've never even spoken a word to.

If she's to become my submissive she has to quit her night job. _What the fuck?_ No. I shake it away as I step through the doors. That's not going to happen.

Her smile hits me like an earth-quake the second I step through the doors. I'm pretty sure I can feel the ground shaking beneath me. She's even more glorious when she smiles.

"Welcome" She says as she passes by me with a tray full of dishes in her hand.

I murmur something incoherent as I go to take a seat at the counter. I'm never incoherent.

As soon as I'm seated and the perky blonde behind the counter comes to take my order I realize I'm at the wrong seat. My beautiful seductress is waiting on the tables, while the counter is cared for by her co-worker.

I can't change seats now. It'll be too obvious. I curse inwardly; I really wanted to get a chance to talk to her. I should have weighed my seating-options more carefully before I sat down. I repress a sigh as I order a coffee and a blueberry muffin.

"Coming right up!" The blonde informs me, her voice every bit as cheery and perky as her appearance.

As the blonde places my order in front of me with her best service-smile plastered to her face, I see a haze of brown hair in the corner of my eye as my reason for coming here leans her upper-body against the counter a few steps away.

Sipping at my coffee, I steal a glance at her, trying not to make it too obvious I'm watching her, and my breath hitches in my throat. She's even more attractive than I remembered. She looks happier than she did at the club, more present in the moment and her smile makes her eyes spark, making them, if possible, even more amazing.

Her co-worker says something I can't hear and the most beautiful sound I've ever heard fills the space around me. She giggles. I close my eyes as the sound fills me with a feeling I don't quite recognize. I would give anything in the world to be the one making her sound like that.

_Get a grip, Grey!_ _She's not just a cute waitress…_No, she's far beyond cute… _She's a stripper. She receives money for displaying her body in all its nakedness to anyone who's willing to pay._ And I would, without blinking, give her all the money I'm possession of to see that nakedness again – displayed for my eyes only.

Still watching her and her co-worker out of the corner of my eye, I see the blonde leaning forward over the counter, whispering something in Anastasia's ear. The gesture tells me they're more than just co-workers, probably more like close friends.

_Sexual orientation: unknown, _the words from the info-sheet flashes through my mind. No. That can't be. She can't be. I turn my head to look at them more closely. Their heads are close together, both of them leaning over the counter as the blonde is talking in a hushed voice and my beautiful brunette is listening eagerly. Neither of them seems to take notice of my looking at them.

Are they lovers? I feel a pang of jealousy in my chest, somewhere close to where my heart would have been, have I had one, and my eyes narrow as I take a closer look at the blonde's appearances. She's pretty in a generic kind of way, strawberry-blonde hair, green eyes and a body with curves in all the right places… But she's nothing compared to Miss Anastasia Steele.

No. No one I've ever seen is anything compared to Miss Anastasia Steele. I need to know if she's even into men. I'm driving myself crazy over a part-time stripper that might or might not be gay.

There's a rustling of chairs somewhere behind me in the almost empty café and immediately, Miss Steele disengages herself from the intimate conversation with her co-worker and heads over to clear the table. I hear her wishing the leaving customers a nice day and her voice is like music to my ears. She has to be into men. She _has_ to. Otherwise, I'll take it upon myself to convert her. I have to make this astonishing woman mine.

_Making a stripper into your submissive? Really, Grey, are you serious?_

Oh, God….Am I?

"Do you want a refill?" I flinch momentarily as the blonde appears in front of me, tilting her head to the side.

"No, thank you" I have to get out of here. I have to clear my thoughts. I can't seriously be considering asking a stripper to be my sub. _I don't even know if she's into the lifestyle._

I leave enough money on the counter to cover my tab and a generous tip before I practically flee out of the café.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm thrilled with the response my little story has been getting – you guys are great!

I wanted to make this chapter longer, but I'm leaving for a vacation trip tomorrow and will be gone for a couple of days, so I decided to cut it off and post what I've got so far, since it'll be a couple of days before I get the chance to sit down and write again.

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**For all eyes to see – chapter 3**

* * *

For the third morning in a row, I settle into a booth at the Sunshine Café and open my laptop. My first meeting isn't until noon, and just like yesterday and the day before that I will make this booth into my temporary morning-office so I can watch the glorious Miss Steele as I work.

Right now, she's talking with Miss Kavanagh over the counter. Yes. I've had Welch pull information on all the employees at Sunshine Café and I've come to the conclusion that the perky blonde who seems to be so intimate with my sweet Anastasia must be Katherine Kavanagh – an up-and-coming journalist, destined to make it in the media business without taking advantage of the fact that her father is the founder and owner of Kavanagh Media.

By the look of things, Miss Kavanagh is not only Miss Steele's co-worker, but also her room-mate as they seem to be living at the same address, and for a few moments, my heart stopped as I read her file. That is, until I flipped the page and found her relationship record, which contains a bunch of short-term relationships – all with men – and her sexual orientation that clearly states: heterosexual. Thank God.

I'm confident I could win Anastasia over if competing with another guy over her attention; but I'm not sure how that would work if she had a girlfriend.

Yes. Win her over. I'm determined to do just that. I don't care about her other job or that more people than I'd like to think about has seen her naked and touching herself. All I need is to convince her to spend one night with me in my playroom. One good, hard fuck and then I can get her out of my system and move on with my life.

_Only because she's not dating Miss Kavanagh, doesn't mean she's straight_, my subconscious kindly reminds me.

There's a rustle over at the counter and I see the wonder that is Anastasia Steele roll her eyes at a smiling Miss Kavanagh as she makes her way over to my booth. I feel my cock twitch as I'm hoping she'll repeat that same gesture in my playroom and give me the opportunity to punish her for it. _Oh, it'll be wonderful to see that pale skin flush under the workings of my hand…_

She fumbles with a notepad when she approaches me. "Are you ready to order, sir?" She smiles right at me and I take the opportunity to openly look at her. Her smile is breathtaking and her eyes seem to be getting brighter and bluer each time I see them and I get the feeling they can see into the depths of my soul.

She's wearing her hair pulled back into a pony tail, yesterday it was two – one on each side – and I think I liked that better; it made her look even more innocent and sweet. I let my eyes slide down her body; the waitress uniform she's wearing doesn't show much, but just knowing how delicious that body underneath it is makes me want to throw myself at her right here and now.

As I return my eyes to her face I see her cast her eyes down and blush under my scrutinizing gaze. _In her line of work, shouldn't she be used to men checking her body out?_

"I'll have two coffees and two blueberry muffins" I say and she looks over at the empty seat opposite from me with a confused little frown on her otherwise perfect forehead before she scribbles my order onto her little notepad.

"Coming right up, sir" She smiles as she turns around to go get my order. I do love it when she calls me 'sir' – the word seems to fall so naturally from her lips.

At this time of day, when the breakfast rush has passed and the lunch rush hasn't set in yet, the café is empty, save from me and two young girls at a table near the windows. The girls have been sipping the same latte's for about half an hour and I smile to myself as I think of the plan I came up with yesterday. Soon, I'll know more about Miss Anastasia Rose Steele.

"Here you go" Miss Steele gives me another one of those incredible smiles as she places the cups filled with coffee and the muffins on the table before me.

"Sit" I order and she looks utterly confused.

"Wh-what?" She stutters out as she runs her hand up to her face and places a few stray hairs behind her ear.

"Sit and have coffee with me" I clarify my demand and she shuffles her feet, but doesn't move.

"I'm working" She explains as if I couldn't have figured that out from the uniform and the fact that she'd just taken and delivered my order.

"The place seems to be rather empty at the moment" I make a deal out of looking around the empty café and she follows my gaze. _Why won't she just sit down?_

I award her with one of my most charming, panty-wetting smiles. "I'm sure you can find the time to sit down with me for a few minutes"

She bites her lip – _Oh, that lip!_ – and casts a glance over her shoulder at her friend. Miss Kavanagh is all smiles as she nods her head, not all that discreet but still encouragingly towards me.

Anastasia seems to be debating with herself before she finally gives in. "Oh, okay" A shy smile appears on her lips as she slides into the booth.

"I'm Christian Grey" I introduce myself as I push one of the coffees and a muffin across the table to her.

"I know" She practically whispers and her eyes widen as in shock when she realizes what she said.

I push my laptop aside, it's blocking my view of her and I wouldn't want to miss one glimpse of her as we interact. "You do?" I'm sure my facial expression reveals my amusement, but I don't care.

"Well…" She bites down on her lip again and I suddenly feel it very hard to concentrate on anything other than those full lips and the potential they hold. "…Kate, that's my friend…she…eh…she recognized you…from magazines and stuff"

"Magazines and stuff?" I repeat, somehow I find her shyness and awkwardness unbelievably charming.

She smiles. "Yeah"

"So…" I start, making sure I catch her eyes with mine. "…so far I've introduced myself and you've introduced your friend Kate. What about you?"

Her gaze is so intense I feel the need to rip my eyes away, but of course I don't – I'm never the first to break eye-contact. It's just…it feels as if though she's seeing through me, right into the darkness of my soul.

"Oh…" She looks embarrassed and casts her eyes down towards the table for a few seconds before looking up again. "I'm Anastasia, or Ana if you please"

"Anastasia" I repeat, reveling in the sound of her name from my lips. "That's a beautiful name"

She blushes yet again. "Thank you sir"

She seems to be well-mannered with all her 'sirs' – I like that. That seems promising. Not to talk about the way she keeps casting her eyes down. This girl was born to be a submissive.

But she won't be my submissive – only for a night. Only so I can get her out of my head.

I decide to cut right to the chase. "So, Anastasia, do you have a boyfriend?" I don't want to have to bother with a jealous boyfriend knocking on my door after I'm done fucking her. _And I really don't like the idea of her having a boyfriend – jealous or not._

This time, her cheeks go crimson red. "No"

"Good" I smile. I've decided the best way to do this is to start with a dinner in the privacy of my penthouse, where we can discuss the one-night contract I had drawn up yesterday. I don't want to tell her how badly I want to fuck her here, where her friend – the aspiring journalist – is within hearing-distance.

And I certainly won't tell her _how_ I want to fuck her until she's signed an NDA.

"Then I would want you to have dinner with me tonight" I make sure to sound as convincing and charming as I possibly can.

She's squirming in her seat. _Oh, Anastasia, the ways I can make your body squirm once you've signed the contract._

"I'm busy tonight" She says it with a regretful tone but I still feel fury raging through me as I realize _why_ she's busy tonight. She's working at the club. Of course. She can't be naked with me in my playroom tonight, because she has plans to get naked in front of a crowd of men.

"Tomorrow night then" I have a hard time not letting my anger display in my voice.

She looks down at the table. "I'm busy most nights"

I have to take a deep breath. How the fuck do I solve this? I have to have her. I have to fuck her. I have to get out from under this spell she has cast over me.

"I see" I say shortly. What else can I say? _I need her to understand how badly I want this._

"I would _really_ want to have dinner with you Anastasia" She blushes again and sinks her teeth into that delicious-looking lip. _That's it. I'll fuck her right here on this table, I don't care who sees._

"I would want that do" She whispers again and for a moment I'm fazed, thinking she has responded to my inner-thoughts. But I quickly find my composure again as it becomes clear to me that she's talking about the words I actually did say out loud – about the dinner.

_This girl is driving me fucking insane._

"I'm free Monday night" She suddenly says and there's a light of hope in her eyes.

Monday night. That's four days from now. I can't wait that long. I need her now.

Do I have a choice?

"Monday it is then" I succumb and her face lights up in the most amazing smile I've seen so far. _How could have guessed there was even a possibility for a smile to be more amazing than her first?_

"Monday" She repeats as she rips of a paper from her notepad and hands it to me. I glance down at it. It's her phone number. I already have it, but I'm guessing for some reason she wouldn't find that piece of information flattering.

She stands up from her seat, still smiling wide. "I have to get back to work"

No. Already? I feel as deprived of her presence as I did when she exited the stage at Midnight Madness.

"You haven't finished your coffee yet" I try, in a desperate attempt to keep her with me for just a little while longer.

She looks down at her feet for a moment and there's a curious smile on her lips as she meets my eyes again. "I don't really drink coffee"

I let out a laughter. I don't know why I find that funny. But I do. And when she's giggling at my response I feel myself smiling a real, heart-felt smile, for the first time since…I don't even know if I ever smiled like that ever before. But it feels good. Amazing actually.

_What is it about this girl? What is it that she's doing to me?_


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you, thank you, thank you for all your wonderful reviews! I usually try to respond to each and everyone personally, but the sun is shining and there's a chilled bottle of wine with my name on it waiting for me, so I figured you'd rather have an update today and my responses to reviews tomorrow than the other way around.

* * *

**For all eyes to see – Chapter 4**

* * *

Haunted by my usual night terrors, filled with images of the crack whore's dead, cold body and her pimp's dark, evil eyes, I wake up with a pounding heart.

_It was only a dream. I'm safe now. _

I take a deep breath and turn my head to look at the alarm clock on the bedside table. 06.24. Must be some kind of a record, I usually wake up at the crack of dawn, unable to go back to sleep. Terrified of it, actually; of giving those images another chance to sneak back into my dreams. _They always find me._

I throw the sheets aside, walk into the bathroom and step into the shower. I need to feel the water wash over my skin, to make sure I'm thoroughly awake and have left the nightmares behind me.

I lean my head back and let the water splash over my face. _I'm in control. I'm safe. _

The water actually does help. It makes the nightmares feel less real when the cold-sweat caused by them is chased away by the water and the soap.

I stand in there for about ten minutes; until I finally feel I'm rid of the last remains of the nightmare and am ready to start my day.

Friday. Three more days until Monday.

I fucking hate waiting.

* * *

I take a look at my wrist watch as I drive into the parking lot in front of Sunshine Café. I have an early meeting and I really should be heading straight to work to prepare for it – but I just can't start my day without seeing Anastasia's glorious smile.

I've made a habit out of seeing it before I dive into the world of mergers and acquisitions. I need it. I need it every bit as much as I need to breathe.

_And I hate that I need it._ What I _do_ need is to fuck her; to pound into her until the need to see her smile disappears. To work my flogger on her until the want to hear her giggle dissolves.

I really want _that_. Badly.

I step into the café and immediately, my eyes scan the place until I find her. She's working the counter today – I can't believe my luck as I only have time to purchase a coffee to go this morning. She hasn't noticed me yet and I sit down at the counter, trying not to make a sound to disturb her as she goes through a bunch of receipts over at the register.

She hums quietly to herself and I strain my ears trying to make out the melody, but it's too low and only small pieces of it reach my ears. I could watch her like this all day. She's wearing her hair down today, held back from her face with the help of a few hairclips. She amazes me by looking even more beautiful each time I see her. _I have to have her._

"Good morning Anastasia" I greet and she flinches at the sound of my voice, her cheeks blushing as she realizes I've been watching her.

_Yes Anastasia, I love to watch you work. Just think of the work you could do to my eager cock. I would love to watch that. _

"Oh" She puts the receipts down and nervously runs her hands over her apron. "Good morning Mr. Grey" She moves closer, the blush still visible on her cheeks. _God, she's adorable._

"I'm sorry...I was…" She gestures towards the register. "I didn't hear you" She attempts a smile. "What can I get you?"

_You. Naked and spread out before my eyes. Please Anastasia, I need that…_

I clear my throat, driving my wayward thoughts away. "A coffee to go, thank you" I answer instead. _I can't wait until Monday. I fucking hate waiting._

"Oh, okay" Did I see disappointment in her eyes? I think I did. I have to repress the smile that desperately wants to make its way onto my lips.

_Yes, my sweet Anastasia, I'm disappointed to. I would love to sit here all day and watch you. _Instead I have to settle for the images in my mind. _They're not good enough._

"Here you go" She places my order in front of me and I award her a smile that refreshes the blush on her cheeks as she shyly turns her head down, away from my gaze. _Oh, Anastasia._ My cock twitches in my pants. _You were born to be a submissive. My submissive._

I can't help myself. I lean over the counter, as close to her ear as I can reach and let out a brush of warm air against it. "I can't fucking wait until Monday" I whisper towards her ear, my voice raspy from want.

I draw back, pleased to see her staring at me with eyes wide open. I reach for her hand and gently kiss her knuckles. "Have a good day Anastasia" I say with a hint of a smile before I leave the money for the coffee and a generous tip on the counter and head for the door.

As I exit the café, I have to repress the urge to turn around and see if she's still watching me. I hope she does.

_I'm certifiably insane, but I don't care. If insanity feels like this, I'd choose it over sanity any day of the week._

* * *

Sleep seems to be so far away, so unattainable. For the last hour and a half, I've been tossing and turning on my bed. The two whiskeys I poured myself before laying down to sleep didn't help the least bit.

I can't seem to relax. Pictures of Anastasia up on that stage with hordes of men drooling over her are flashing before my eyes each time I attempt to close them.

Four times tonight I've stepped into the elevator, determined to drive to the club, throw Miss Steele over my shoulder and bring her back here – away from all the staring eyes.

Four is also the number of times I've stepped out of the elevator, telling myself that it doesn't matter what she does tonight or who is watching her do it. She's a one night stand – or at least she will be, come Monday – and I don't invest that much time and effort into a girl I plan on fucking, flogging and forgetting.

But I can't help but wonder if she's on stage right now, what she's wearing and who's watching her.

_I can't take this. I need to fuck her so my life can return to what it used to be. _

I need to regain control. In order to do that –I need to control her. Just for one night. I need to take back control over my thoughts.

Somewhere in between vain attempts of _not_ thinking about which fantasies 'Rose' is implementing in the minds of the men at the club right now and fantasies of my own filled with breathy "yes, sir"-'s, flushed cheeks in more than one place on her body and blue eyes clouded with need, lust and desire, I manage to fall into a restless sleep.

* * *

_I find myself surrounded by a cloud of white fog. I blink a few times, trying to make out my surroundings and that's when the fog slowly disperses and I see her. Anastasia. She's up on a stage, wearing nothing but a tiny, green thong._

_She looks like an ethereal being; a beautiful fairy, moving her body slowly, suggestively among the remains of the white fog. I realize I'm standing in a corner of the club, watching her, unable to tear my eyes away from the beautiful being on the stage before me._

_But she doesn't see me. No, her eyes are trained on a man, sitting in an armchair right below the stage, watching her with a cigarette in his hand. "Good girl" He says as she turns around and bends over to show off her behind to him and the voice chills my blood._

_No. It can't be. _

_I stand paralyzed, watching as Anastasia turns back around and cups her breasts in her hand, pinching her nipples and bowing her head back in delight. The man in the armchair grunts. "Come here" He demands and she snaps her head back up._

_Graciously, she climbs down from the stage and moves towards the man, smiling and biting her delicious lower lip. I want to scream. I want to stop her. I want to scoop her up in my arms and run in the opposite direction. But I do none of those things._

_Instead, I take a step closer to them. My beautiful angel is now standing between his spread legs, touching herself for him, pleasing him, neither of them noticing my presence. The man takes another drag of his cigarette and then puts it out. I can't see where he puts it out, but I know the sound all too well and I shudder as the memory of a pain I'd rather forget rips through my body._

_With both his hands now free, he reaches towards her and grabs her butt cheeks, kneading them and drawing her closer to him. He buries his face in the valley between her breasts and I hear Anastasia moan, it's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard and I feel tears burning behind my eyelids._

_The man's mouth is on her breasts, kissing them, biting down a little too hard on her nipples and she moans again before he leans back in his chair with a smug smile on his lips. "Do your work, baby" He tells her and Anastasia leans forward, opening the buttons of his dirt-stained once-was-white shirt and kisses her way down his chest as she slowly sinks to her knees in front of him._

_The man turns his head towards me, and for the first time he acknowledges my presence in the room. There's an evil grin on his lips and he places a firm hand on Anastasia's head as she starts working on opening his belt._

_"__This is what she's good for" He tells me. "She's a dirty little slut…" He hisses as Anastasia has freed his cock from his pants and sinks her lips onto it. "That's right, baby" He tells her, pressing her head further down his length. "Just like that"_

_I don't want to watch any more, but I can't divert my eyes. The man, who I now know for sure is the crack-whore's pimp, follows my gaze down to Anastasia's head and his grin widens. "Your little girl is good, you know" He informs me. "You didn't really think stripping was all she did, did you?" He laughs. "This is where the real money is, boy"_

_"__This is where the real money is, boy"_ _His word echoes through my head as I try launch forward to…to what? To separate them. To punch his gut out. To save her. To prove him wrong. To protect her._

_But I can't. I'm stuck. There's something holding me back. I twist and turn, trying to free myself from the material holding me back. _

_The pimp's laugh echoes through the room, louder and louder. "You didn't really think stripping was all she did, did you?"_

_"__No. No. No. No." My voice raise with each 'no', but I'm trapped. The more I fight to get rid of the silky material holding me back, the more entangled in it I get._

"No. No. No. NO!" I open my eyes, still fighting to free myself. Where are they? I can't see them anymore.

It takes more than a couple of seconds before I realize I'm in my bed, in my empty bed-room, my body drenched in sweat and the sheets tangled around it. It was a dream.

I concentrate on my breathing, trying to calm it down the way Flynn has instructed me to do. _It was a dream_, I repeat to myself as a mantra. _Only a dream._ He's dead. The crack-whore's pimp has been dead for years. _It was only a dream._

I free myself from the sheets, it's easier now that I've calmed down and am awake and aware of what it is I'm fighting against. I sit on the edge of the bed and bury my head in my hands. _Only a dream_, I repeat again. _Only a dream._

_But what if it wasn't? _I feel my pulse rising again and I'm starting to lose control over my breathing. The crack-whore's pimp might be dead – but there's other men just like him out there. He isn't the only one.

No. My sweet, innocent little Anastasia. She wouldn't do that. _"She doesn't do private dances"_ The waitress' words feel like a life-line thrown towards a drowning man. Yes. She doesn't do private dances. That's good. That has to mean something. My breathing is starting to slow down again.

I get up and head for the shower. I need to wash the memory of that horrible dream off me.

* * *

Saturday goes by in a haze as I try to busy myself with work. Two days until Monday. Two more nights of Anastasia taking her clothes off up on that stage and me tossing and turning in my bed thinking about just that.

The dream I had about her has left a bitter after-taste in my mouth that even the shower couldn't rid me off completely. The taste has gotten more and more distinct the closer the night came.

Now she's probably right up on that stage and I feel that bitter taste vividly with every breath I take.

_"__Your girl is good, you know"_

I clench my teeth, focusing on the contract in front of me.

_"__This is what she's good for"_

My fingers turn to white as my grip on the papers in my hand hardens.

_"__This is where the real money is, boy"_

Without me being able to stop it, my mind drifts to Miss Steele's savings account. It held a quite impressive sum. Is that where the money came from?

No. I toss the papers to the floor. No. I shake my head, hoping the words from my nightmare will fall right out. They don't.

_"__You didn't think stripping was all she did, did you?"_

That does it. I push my chair back and stand up, calling Taylor as I head towards the elevator.

* * *

Sitting in my car, I stare at the headrest in front of me._ I can't believe I'm here._ I don't know how long I've been sitting like this, staring, but obviously it's long enough to make Taylor shift uncomfortably in the driver's seat as he throws worried glances at me through the review-mirror.

Taylor doesn't do uncomfortable. He doesn't do worry. It must have been a while.

"Are you okay, sir?" I meet his eyes in the mirror as I look up from my paralyzed state.

"I'm fine" I snap back, probably sounding harsher than I intended to.

_What am I doing here?_

But where else could I be?

The more times I paced around the apartment, trying to find something – anything – to occupy my thoughts with, the less assuring my objections against the reality of the nightmare felt.

I needed to see it for myself. I needed to see Anastasia on stage in that little bubble of hers she was in when I first saw her. I needed to see that my nightmare wasn't real.

I take a deep breath to steady myself. _I must be crazy. I must be fucking out of my mind._ I wonder what Flynn would have to say about this? I haven't told him about Anastasia. I'm positive he'd have me committed in an instant if he knew.

_Knew what?_ That I want to fuck her? That I want to possess her body. To make her mine. Mine only.

Yeah, it's probably that last part that would have him send for the nice men in the white shirts. I can't make her mine. It's too late. She has already willingly given her body to the fantasies of every man that has ever seen her up on that stage. And maybe she's given more than just fantasies…

_Fuck!_

I pinch my eyes shut for a few seconds. _What's happening to me?_ I don't recognize myself. I don't obsess over women. They're interchangeable. As long as she have the right physical appearance, a desire to please me in every way possible and a willingness to accept her punishment when failing to do so – it doesn't matter who she is.

Only…this time it matters. It matters more than anything. I want – no I _need_ – Miss Anastasia Rose Steele in my playroom, allowing me, and only me, free access to her delicious body, begging me to touch her. _I hate that it matters._

I take another deep breath. "Stay close by" I deliver the order to Taylor with a surprisingly steady voice. He nods and affirms he will do that and I step out of the car, trying not to think too much as I make my way towards the entrance to Midnight Madness.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I know this is really, really short, but again – I'm leaving on another short vacation tomorrow and won't have time to post until Tuesday. I wanted to give you something and this is what I've got so far.

Next week, starting Tuesday I don't have anything time-consuming planned and will have more time to write – so hopefully the chapters will start getting longer.

Thank you again for all your reviews – I love reading them and they make me crazy inspired to keep writing! Thank you also to all of those that followed and/or favorite my story!

* * *

**For all eyes to see – Chapter 5**

* * *

Walking into the club, I look around and spot her almost immediately up on one of the stages. I let out a breath I wasn't aware I'd been holding. She's completely engulfed in what she's doing and just like last time, she doesn't seem to be aware of the men watching her. Her eyes never fall on any of them. She doesn't resemble the Anastasia I saw I my nightmare the least bit, no – this Anastasia looks just as sweet and innocent as I remembered.

She doesn't quite resemble the Anastasia I met at the coffee shop either. No. That Anastasia was more present in the moment. Happier. Smiling. This Anastasia is distant. Her face is expressionless.

Her underwear, which she hasn't taken off yet, is dark red and a piece of clothing in the exact same color lies on the floor of the stage; probably something she wore when she went on.

I focus my eyes on Anastasia, trying not to think about the other men watching her. I can't think about that. Not that it is an effort focusing solely on her. I don't think I could focus on anything else even if I wanted to.

_Oh, the way she moves._ It's like she's exploring her own body, feeling it's every curve and move. It's sexy. Incredibly sexy.

I feel a strong rush of something I would describe as jealousy if I didn't know better. _I don't want anyone else seeing her like this._ I want that pale, delicious-looking skin exposed for me, and me only.

Without taking my eyes off her, I move closer to her stage. _Why is she doing this?_ The jealous-like feeling gives way for a feeling I'm much more familiar with: anger. _Why is she degrading herself like this?_

And all the men watching her; what if someone thinks they have a shot and decides to go for it? She should be more careful. She shouldn't put herself at risk like this. _She ought to know what kind of effect she has on men._

When I feel I've gotten close enough, I stop and lean myself against a pillar a few feet away from the scene. _Close enough? I can't get close enough._ I cross my arms over my chest.

Anastasia has started lowering the shoulder straps on her bra and I can literally feel my face turning into stone. In a matter of minutes her perfect breasts will be exposed for all eyes to see.

She turns around in my direction and suddenly it's like someone's taken a needle and pressed it against her bubble until it burst – she freezes as she meets my eyes.

Her face isn't expressionless any longer. No. Her eyes have widened and her mouth has dropped open. She's shocked.

I feel, rather than notice, eyes turning my way as the drooling men looks to see who has interrupted their pleasure. Anastasia must have noticed too, because she makes an attempt to pick up her dancing. But the moves look strained and nervous and there's a fervent blush on her cheeks. Her eyes are cast down towards the floor.

And before I get the chance to react to the fact that she's seen me and obviously recognized me, she stumbles on her blood-red high heels. As in slow-motion I see her left ankle twist in what I'm sure is a very painful angle and she falls to the floor.

Without thinking, I rush towards her and I think I'm calling her name as I do so. But before I can reach her, a tall, muscular man with the words security written on his shirt appears in my way.

He gestures for me to stop, jumps up on stage and helps Anastasia up to a standing position. I notice she doesn't put any weight on her left foot and she clings on to the security man's arm as if she was holding on for life. She's hurt. She's hurt and it's my fault.

"Anastasia!" I try to call at her attention over the man's shoulder. He flinches at the mention of her real name.

"Ana, do you know this man?" He moves slightly to the side and I see her big, blue eyes looking right at me and to my great relief, she nods. That's all I need before I climb up on stage to join them.

I try to push past him, now that he knows she knows who I am, he must let me talk to her. I need to know how badly she's hurt. But he blocks her with his body again.

"Do you want to talk to him?" He asks her and on some level I feel relieved by the fact that he seems to be taking his job so seriously – but at the same time I'm furious at him for keeping her from me when all I want is to make sure she's okay.

She nods again. "It's okay Tony. You can step back"

He releases his grip on her and she falters as she tries to regain her balance with only one foot steadily on the ground. I launch forward and offer her my support, beating the security guard – apparently named Tony – to it. He rolls his eyes.

"I'm right over here" He gestures towards the curtain at the end of the stage, separating the backstage area from the club. "Call if you need me" He adds before walking back to his position.

I'm holding my hand around Anastasia's waist and even though the touch isn't in any way meant to be sexual, my entire body is reacting to the feel of her body next to mine. My pulse quickens, my cock comes to life and I feel like there's soft, light jolts of electricity shooting through my nerve-system.

Her skin feels so soft I have to muster up all of my self-control to keep my hand from wandering from her waist to touch more of it. I take a deep breath to retain control over my body. _Oh fuck, she smells good!_

I'm ripped out of my thoughts as I feel her arm reach around my back, probably to gain more support. I tense momentarily before her arm settles on my lower back, right above my waistband.

Awakened from the trance her closeness had set me in, I'm suddenly very aware of all the people still watching us. "Let's get you off stage" I say and Anastasia complies, nodding.

Slowly, we start walking towards the curtain and when I notice her grimacing in pain as she tries to walk I make a rush decision and sweep her up into my arms.

Her eyes widen again and she utters a surprised "Oh", but seems to be relieved at the chance of getting off the stage and away from the staring eyes of her audience quicker.

She's so light. She weighs practically nothing. _I could easily hold her in my arms as I fuck her._ Not now, I scold myself. See to her injuries first – think about fucking her later.

Once we're safely behind the curtain I set her down and with her eyes glued to the floor she whispers "Thank you".

"You're hurt" I state and I want to kick myself when I hear how accusing my words sound. That was not my intention. It's not her fault she got hurt. If anything, it's _my_ fault.

"We need to get you to a doctor to have that ankle looked at" I make an effort to make my voice sound soft to take the edge of my previous accusation.

"I don't think that's necessary" She says, still in a low voice and without meeting my eyes.

"Really" She continues when I don't say anything and she loosens the grip she's had around my waist. "I'm okay" For the first time since I carried her backstage she looks up at me with an embarrassed smile.

I feel my lips pressing against each other. _She's not okay._ She's hurt. Why won't she let me take her to see a doctor?

To prove just how okay she is, she lets go of my arm completely. "Thank you for your help, but I'm okay now"

She takes a step back and her face is distorted by pain and she falters when her weight falls on her injured foot. I launch forward just in time to catch her before she falls to the floor again.

I'm holding her in my arms in what would most likely be described as an embrace. I feel her body pressing against mine as she leans to relieve her injured foot of any pressure. _Focus. I need to focus._

I open my mouth to inform her that I'm taking her to see a doctor and will not accept any objections to the matter when she looks up at me and meets my eyes. _Shit!_

It feels as if though time is standing still. I've always hated those metaphors; really, time standing still, who the hell buys into that shit? Right now – I am. _Time standing still._ Yep. _Moment frozen in time._ Absolutely. _The rest of the world stops moving._ No doubt.

I sink my gaze down to her lips. They're slightly parted and I can hear her breathing. Her breaths are shallow and I can almost feel the anticipation in the air between us. She wants me to kiss her. _And, oh God, how I would want that too!_ Just one little taste of those sweet, sweet lips.

No. I tear my gaze away from them, knowing all too well that one little taste won't be enough. If I allow myself that, I won't be able to stop until I've tasted every delicious inch of her and I can't do that. Not now. She's injured and I need to get her to a hospital.

I clear my throat. "Let's find you some clothes. I'm taking you to see a doctor"

I see her eyes dropping as the moment is broken._ Soon Anastasia, soon._ I just need you to sign an NDA, make sure we're on the same page and then I'll taste you and you'll love it. _I can't fucking wait._


	6. Chapter 6

I've added a few things towards the end of chapter 5 as I felt I rushed through it a bit because I wanted to get it out before I left – so you might want to back a step and check out the changes before continuing on with this chapter.

I'm sorry for taking time to get this chapter posted, but another story kept sneaking its way into my head so I simply had to get that one into print and out of my head before I could continue this one.  
It's a story about Christian, Ana and Elena – it's called _The perfect birthday present_ if you want to check it out.

And I know I wrote in the author's note for that story that I would post this chapter like two days ago – but I kept rewriting and changing things and I didn't seem to ever feel finished with this chapter.

* * *

**For all eyes to see – Chapter 6**

* * *

Anastasia doesn't say much during the ride to the hospital. She simply sits and stares at her hands folded in her lap and only answers briefly to any of my attempts to start a conversation. I wonder if she's shy, or embarrassed or if she simply doesn't want to talk to me.

_Fuck!_ I probably ruined everything by showing up at the club. She probably thinks I'm one of them; one of the drooling men that would want nothing more than to fuck the pretty stripper that has been feeding their imagination from up the stage.

_Well, aren't I?_ _What makes me different from them?_

_Everything_, I decide. I would have wanted to fuck her even if she wasn't a stripper. Hell, unlike them, I wish she _wasn't_ a stripper. If she weren't I could have made her my submissive, I could have taken my time getting to know every delicious inch of her.

I feel my cock growing harder as I think about it. _Yes…it would have been wonderful to have Miss Steele as my submissive._

"You really didn't have to do this" Anastasia's voice rips me away from my daydreaming about her on her knees, at my mercy, eager to please me in any way possible.

"I could have taken a cab" She continues, still not taking her eyes off of her hands.

"It is my pleasure to take you" I tell her and can't help but smile at the double meaning of my words. _Yes Anastasia, it will be a real pleasure to take you._

"Thank you" She whispers and for the first time since we got into the car she looks up and meet my eyes. _Fuck, she's gorgeous!_

She sinks her teeth into her lower lip for a few seconds and looks like she's about to say something when the car stops and Taylor announces that we have arrived at the hospital.

With me supporting her on one side and Taylor on the other, we manage to get Anastasia into the hospital and luckily it seems like a slow night and one of the doctors is able to see her almost right away.

I take a seat in the waiting room and reach for a copy of The Seattle Times, opening it up to the business section in attempt to occupy myself as I wait.

It's useless. My thoughts keep drifting away and when I've read the same article three times without being able to make out what it's really about I give up and toss the paper away.

I lean my head back and close my eyes. _I hope she's not too badly hurt._

* * *

Finally, after what feels like forever, Anastasia comes back to the waiting room supported by a couple of crutches and I quickly walk over to find her looking at me, a hint of surprise in her eyes. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. _Come on Anastasia, give me some credit here._

"What did he say?" I ask, trying to distract myself from the anger building inside over the fact that she obviously thought I would have left.

"I have sprained my ankle…" She explains in an almost-whisper. "…luckily it doesn't look that severe and the doctor thinks I'll recover within two or three weeks. Until then, these…" She rests her weight on her non-injured foot and holds the crutches up in the air. "…are my new best friends"

I know I should feel bad – because on some level it is actually my fault that she fell and hurt her ankle. But I can't. There's one thought rushing around my brain, leaving no room for anything else. _Sprained ankle plus crutches equals no dancing. For at least two weeks._

Two weeks is plenty of time if spent the right way. I could have a two-week contract drawn up by tomorrow. With her injured wrist she might not be able to do everything that I had planned for our one night together – but in return I'll get two weeks of having her as my sub.

I look down at her injured feet, it's covered in bandages and I can't help but wonder if it will be too swollen to be restrained…

"You're smiling" Anastasia points out and I realize I am. I hadn't noticed.

"I'm just glad you're okay" I tell her as we start walking.

"I like it when you smile" She looks at me sideways and I can see a shy smile on her lips.

"Likewise, Anastasia" I say and to my surprise I find that I actually really mean it. I like it when she smiles – it lights her entire face up and makes her eyes sparkle.

We walk in silence until we reach the street outside the hospital; or rather – I walk and Anastasia limps, supporting herself on the crutches.

"Does it hurt?" I ask, scolding myself for not having asked this earlier and offered to carry her is the answer had been yes. _I don't want her to hurt._

"No" She shakes her head and smiles. "The doctor gave me some pain-killers and they seem to be pretty effective"

"Good" I quicken my steps and reach the car door in time to hold it open for her to take her seat inside, which she does after almost knocking both me and herself out trying to get the crutches in with her.

I walk around the car and get in next to her. "Take us back to Escala" I command Taylor and in the corner of my eye I see Anastasia frown.

"What's Escala?" She asks.

"That's where I live" I explain and she pulls back in her seat, her frown deepening. I sigh. "I don't want you being alone when you're injured and under the influence of 'pretty effective' pain-killers"

"I'll be fine" She insists as she bores her eyes into me, her shy demeanor completely vanished.

I run a hand through my hair. Of course she doesn't want to follow a creep from the club home. _I should be thrilled about that fact._ But I'm not.

I'm honestly concerned about leaving her alone. She can barely walk and even though she doesn't seem to be that affected by the pain-killers – who knows when that might kick in? Or worse…what if she wakes up in pain and accidentally takes too many pills, or takes them too soon after the first dose?

What if she falls and there's no one there to help her? What if there's a fire and she won't be able to make it out of the apartment quick enough? What if… What if… What if…

_What if Miss Steele wasn't so god damn stubborn and just accepted the help I'm offering?_

"I don't want you being alone" I repeat, trying to get her to see that I'm insisting because I care about her – not because I'm hoping to get laid. Well, I do hope that too, but not tonight.

"I'll be fine" She repeats as well.

I clench my teeth to stop myself from saying something I might regret later. "Is there anyone you need to call that might worry if you don't get home tonight?" I ask, suddenly remembering that she has a roommate.

She shakes her head. "I would just really want you to take me home" She says and sigh. I guess I just have to have faith in Miss Kavanagh's ability to look after her friend.

Normally, I wouldn't budge on a matter like this. I don't like having to trust other people to take care of what's mine.

_She's not mine – nor will she ever be_, I remind myself. _I don't want that._ And I don't invest this kind of effort into a one-night stand!

Well, to be fair…it will be more like a two-week stand if only she agrees; I try to justify my actions to myself.

"Taylor" I address my right hand man. "Will you please make a stop on the way to take Miss Steele home?"

"Yes sir" He nods and Ana leans forward to tell him her address. He nods, not letting it show with a single look that both he and I already know where she lives.

* * *

I get out of the car and walk to the side to help Anastasia manage her crutches onto the sidewalk. She smiles shyly as she thanks me and I feel something gripping at my chest. _I don't want her to leave. Not yet._

I make a rush decision and sweep her up into my arms causing her mouth to open into a perfect 'o', but she doesn't say anything. "It will take you forever to climb the stairs with those" I nod towards the crutches that have now fallen to the ground.

_Why is it always rush decisions with this one?_ I always think things through and form careful decisions based on the possible outcomes. I don't act on a whim and I certainly don't usually go around sweeping women into my arms all the time.

"Taylor" I call to his attention, not wanting to delve to deep into my thoughts. "Would you carry Miss Steele's crutches to her apartment?" He nods and steps out of the car to obey my orders as I start walking toward the entrance with Miss Steele in my arms.

"You don't have to…" She starts protesting, but I cut her off – I don't want to hear it.

"Would you please press the code Miss Steele?" I ask and lean her towards the code panel. She rolls her eyes but still presses the code and the door opens.

As I climb the stairs I take the time to enjoy the feeling of her body against mine. She has put her arms around my neck and her head is leaning against my shoulder. If I turn my head, those sweet lips will be just about an inch away from mine.

I don't. Instead I focus on climbing the stairs and getting her home safe and sound – which won't happen if I give in to the temptation of tasting her full lips.

When we reach the door to her apartment I set her down and her arms linger around my neck while she tries to balance herself on one foot. I take the opportunity to allow myself to reach out and touch her face.

_Her skin is so soft against my fingers._ I slowly run my hand down the side of her face and she stops moving and leans into the touch. I reach my other arm around her waist to steady her and – I have to admit that – to pull her just a little bit closer.

She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip yet again and I lose the ability to think straight. _Fuck, that's hot!_ I move my thumb to trace her lip and free it from her teeth. I want to lean in and let _my_ teeth sink into it. Yes. _I want to bite down on that lip and hear her moan as I taste her._

A rustling sound is heard as Taylor sets the crutches down against the wall next to the door, reminding me that we're not alone.

I take a step back, thankful for the interruption. This girl is making me forget everything that's important; rules, contracts and protecting my privacy. _I can't be seen making out with a stripper! _I already have too much to hide. But when she gets too close all coherent and logical thought escapes my brain. I must be careful not to let that happen again.

I loosen my grip around her waist while she takes her arms down and reaches for the crutches. She balances them in one hand as she goes about unlocking the door. She misses the keyhole a couple of times before she manages to get it right and I smirk, apparently the closeness affects her as well.

When she finally gets the door unlocked and opened, I wait for her to enter the hallway and then invite myself in. She looks confused and opens her mouth to say something, but I beat her to it.

"I just want to make sure you won't fall or knock yourself out with those…" I gesture towards the crutches. "…on your way to bed. Then I'll leave" As it is in the middle of the night, I'm guessing her roommate is sound asleep and I don't want Anastasia lying in pains on the floor until her roommate wakes if she'd happen to fall.

She sighs, but by the looks of it, she complies as she nods towards the next room. I motion for Taylor to follow us into the apartment – I don't want any nosy neighbors seeing him out there and start wondering about his presence.

I follow Anastasia into what I assume is her room. She stops in the middle of it and looks at me.

"I'll stay until you're safely tucked into bed" I inform her and she rolls her eyes. _Oh, you just wait sweet girl, in a couple of days there will be a proper punishment to go with that._

"I need to change" She gestures towards the sweat-pants and tank top she's wearing. I nod. _That's okay. I'm in no hurry._ She sighs deeply and nods towards the door with a stern look in her eyes.

I resist the impulse to tell her I've seen it all before – as I would rather see that she'd forget about that and instead I obey her wishes. _Me – obeying? That's new._

I leave the room to give Anastasia the privacy she requested while she changes, even though I don't understand why she feels she needs it. I've already seen her wearing nothing but a pair of teasingly small panties. _And I can't wait to see that again._

I linger around her apartment. I don't want to leave until I'm confident she's been tucked in and doesn't have to leave the bed until her roommate wakes up in the morning to take care of her.

And maybe…just maybe…I can allow myself one small taste of her lips before I leave. Just to give her a little something to dream about – nothing else.

I will make it a sweet kiss, full of promises and just a hint of passion underneath. Just to make sure to plant a few thoughts about what I want to do with her in her mind. Make her long for Monday just as much as I do. It will be easier to get her to say 'yes' to my suggestion if she's even an inch as frustrated and wanting as I am.

I walk around the apartment, hoping to gain a couple of clues to who this intriguing woman might be. The living room holds a couch, a bookshelf littered with book of all sorts and a TV. It's obvious neither she nor her roommate has spent any money on decorating the apartment. Everything in it seems to be there for practical reasons only. A couch for sitting in. A TV for looking at. A bookshelf to store books in. No tablecloths, no flowers or candles, no ridiculously expensive rugs.

Again, my mind drifts to the savings account in Anastasia's name. Whatever the money is for, that is obviously more important to her than a cozy, decorated home. _Or, she just doesn't care about decorating – stop overanalyzing every single thing!_

I stroll on into the kitchen which is right next to the living room separated only by a kitchen island. Everything is very neat and in place. I walk back into the living room.

The door next to Anastasia's room seems to be leading to the bathroom as it is a lock on it, but it is the door next to that that catches my attention. It is slightly open and there's a stream of light coming from inside.

If her roommate is awake, why hasn't she come out?

I stop and listen for a while, there's no sound coming from either room and I decide I have the time to peek into the roommate's room to see what's going on before Anastasia is done changing.

Carefully, I push the door open and the sight raises both suspicion and anger inside me. The room is empty. The bed is still made and unless her roommate prefers to sleep on top the covers I don't think anyone's slept in it tonight.

I turn the light out and close the door. Just to make sure, I peek into the bathroom – it's empty as well – before I go back to Anastasia's door and knock on it. I don't wait for answer before I open the door and enter back into her bedroom. I've never been a patient man.

She's sitting on the bed, wearing a black t-shirt that fits snugly around her breasts but is otherwise rather loose and the sheets are covering her legs. Her hair is curling down her back no hairclips or braids keeping it in place and if I wasn't too busy being pissed off I would probably have thrown myself at her.

"Where is your roommate?" I ask, trying to keep my anger at bay and her mouth drop open.

She looks completely fazed. "Excuse me?"

I step closer to the bed. _Did she really think she could fool me?_ "Your roommate – Miss Kavanagh – where is she?"

"How did you know I had a roommate?" She counters my question with a mix of shock and suspicion in her voice.

I hesitate. Usually I take pride in letting my prospective subs know I've looked them up, it gives me the upper-hand right away and give them a clue to the power and resources I have at hand. But, Anastasia is not a sub – _yet_ – and I'm really trying to come off as different from the creep she probably already thinks I am. I run a hand through my hair, trying to find a way to phrase this that will not freak her out.

"There were two names on the door" She seems to be easing up a bit at the simple explanation. "You told me you didn't have a boyfriend, so I assume the other name belongs to a roommate"

She nods. "It does"

I wait. She doesn't say anything. "Where is your roommate now" I repeat my previous question.

"She's out of town" She informs me and I feel my blood starting to boil.

"You should have told me" My voice is firm and I try my very best to resist the urge to pull her up on my lap and give her a proper spanking for misleading me and attempting to put herself at risk.

Her eyebrows knit together. "I didn't think it mattered" She simply says and I'm fazed. _How could she think it wouldn't matter?_

"Of course it matters – you're injured and I told you I don't want you to be alone in that state" I remind her.

She pouts and pulls the sheets tighter around her. "I'll be fine on my own, thank you"

Making yet another rush decision, I stalk out of her room, find Taylor still in the hallway and informs him that I want him to drive the car back to Escala and wait until the morning for further instructions.

"Very well, sir" He replies and turns to walk out the door without changing his expression the least bit. I do admire a man that knows how to keep his emotions under control. I'm pretty sure he's shocked to his core. _Hell, I'm shocked about this decision. _

I walk back into Anastasia's room; her head is now rested on the pillow and her eyes look drowsy as she opens them. Without hesitation I undo the top buttons of my shirt and then pull it over my head.

Anastasia's eyes widen and she darts up into a sitting position. "What are you doing?"

"Your roommate is out of town and I don't want you spending the night alone when you're injured" I explain in a calm voice as I start unbuttoning my pants.

She sits up at the edge of the bed. "That's really not necessary" She says and her eyes drop to the floor at the same time my pants do. Although I did see the blush on her cheeks before her hair fell down shielding her face from my sight. I smirk, knowing full-well the effect my body usually has on women.

"Don't be silly" I tell her as I walk closer to the bed. "What if you need to get up and fall over on your way to the bathroom?" She bites down on her lip. She probably hadn't thought about that. "I'm staying the night" I state again and add: "End of discussion", to avoid any further injections.

"Lie down and move over" I say and sigh as she hesitates. "I won't take advantage of you in your sleep Anastasia" _But I do plan on doing so when you're awake and under a contract…_

I pick up a blanket that is thrown over the foot of the bed and hold it up for her to see. "You'll sleep under the cover and I'll sleep under the blanket and there will be no touching." _Thank God._ "I'm only here because I want you to be safe Anastasia and you won't be that if you're alone and injured" _Who am I trying to convince – her or myself?_

She finally complies with one last eye roll and moves to leave room for me on the bed. I smile as I lie down next to her and I can't resist leaning closer and offer a bit of inspiration for her dreams. "Sweet dreams Anastasia" I breathe into her ear so close my lips actually touch her earlobe as I speak.

I hear her gasp and I lean back, smiling contently to myself. _Who knew flirting could be so much fun?_

* * *

**A/N: **I know there's at least one issue in this chapter that didn't quite get sorted out – but don't worry, I plan on addressing it in the next chapter, I just thought this was a good place to end chapter 6.


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry for taking my time getting this chapter out, but I've been in kind of a writing-funk lately…which is also why this chapter is rather short. But don't worry; I'm sure I'll snap out of it soon!

And a thousand thanks to **DottiG** – she is the reason why this chapter is grammatically correct and makes sense (from now on there'll be no one supporting themselves on crotches…ever!)

* * *

**For all eyes to see – Chapter 7**

* * *

Lazily, I open my eyes to the day light seeping in through the blinds and look around the bedroom. It takes a couple of seconds before I realize where I am and that I'm not alone in bed. There's a warm body lying next to me, so close I can feel the heat through the blanket.

I hadn't intended or anticipated falling asleep when I crawled into her bed last night. I've never slept in the same bed as anyone ever before – I don't like the idea of having another person witness my nightly terrors and the effect they have one me.

I stiffen as I suddenly realize something; my heart isn't pounding and my body isn't drenched in sweat. I have no memories of having dreamt anything at all. _A dreamless sleep?_ I haven't had that in years – and even then it only happened on a few occasions in college when I drank myself into oblivion.

I turn on my side to look at the woman still sleeping beside me. _Did she somehow chase my nightmares away?_

Anastasia is lying on her back, stretched out with her arms above her head. During sleep, she has kicked the cover away and there's only a pair of really short, black cotton shorts covering a couple of inches of her thighs. Her t-shirt has gotten twisted around her waist and slid up a bit, showing just a little strip of that soft-looking skin. _She looks even more amazing than she did on stage._ More tempting.

I can actually feel my cock growing harder at the mere sight of her. _God._ I force a deep breath down my throat. _She's so close. _If I just reach my hand out, I could feel that soft skin against my fingertips. _I could run my hand up her thigh, let my fingers slide under her shorts…_

I have to close my eyes to take the temptation away. Just for a few seconds so I can regain some sort of control over my thoughts.

When I open them again I'm met with a set of blue eyes watching me and just like last night at the club when I caught her in my arms, it feels like time is standing still and I can't tear my eyes away from hers.

"Hi." She whispers, probably in an attempt to break the tension flowing between us. It doesn't work. If anything, her soft, whispering voice raises it.

"Good morning." I whisper back, surprised at how hoarse my voice sounds.

It feels as if there's a magnetic pull between us and I have to physically strain myself not to move closer and taste those delicious lips. _No._ I'm stronger than this. I need a contract before I do anything. I need an NDA. I need to inform her about the no-touching rule. I need…

Anastasia's gaze flickers down to my lips and her teeth sink into her full bottom lip. _To hell with the paperwork!_ I launch myself forward and press my lips against hers while reaching my hand above her head, grabbing both of her wrists in my hand, making sure they stay there while I give in to temptation. _God, her lips are soft._

It doesn't take long for before Anastasia reacts to my attack on her mouth by parting her lips and granting my tongue access to her mouth. _Holy fuck!_ I don't think I've ever tasted anything sweeter in all my life.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I know I should stop before it's too late, before I'm unable to pull back. _But I want a little more. Just a little bit more._

I let the hand that is not occupied holding her arms in place wander to the exposed strip of skin at her waist. _Her skin feels so unbelievably soft._ I grab her bottom lip between my teeth and the moan that escapes her throat as I nibble on it almost makes my cock explode in my pants.

I've never felt this sort of instant arousal before – this pressing need to feel more of a woman; of her lips, of her skin, of everything. The years with Elena taught me to control myself, to keep my cool. That's what makes me a good, not to say great, Dominant. I never lose control of myself. _Not until now._

I pull back just about an inch and take a deep breath before I lean my forehead against hers. Her breathing is shallow, her lips are parted and her cheeks flush. It's damn near impossible not to allow myself another attack on her delicious mouth. Or her neck – I never got to taste that, or her breasts. _No._ Control. I'm a master at control. I need control. I need rules.

"We have to talk." I manage to get out before I push myself away and lean back against the pillow.

* * *

While waiting for Anastasia to get dressed and come out and join me, I look through her kitchen, searching for something to pass off as breakfast. There's not much, but I find some bread and cheese, so I guess that'll have to do for now.

"There's something that's been bugging me." I look up and see Anastasia slowly making her way towards the kitchen, a cute little frown forming a 'v' between her eyebrows.

I smile. _How can I not?_ "And what may that be?" I gesture for her to sit down while I search the cupboards to set the table.

"Glasses are to your left." She points towards a cupboard on my left side as she sits down. I find the glasses and put them and the plates I've found on the table before I sit down as well across from her.

She watches me intently for a couple of seconds before she speaks up again. "Yesterday, you agreed to take me home when I insisted that I was fine on my own…" _Fuck, she's gorgeous._ I actually have to struggle not to get lost in her eyes and actually listen to the words she speaks. "…but then you made a full 180 and freaked out because I told you my roommate is out of town."

She pauses and again, her teeth find their place on her bottom lip and I'm just about to warn her about the effect that has on me when she continues. "Did you know I had a roommate when you agreed to take me home?"

_Fuck._ I guess there's no way out of this one, might as well lay all the cards on the table. "Yes."

Her frown deepens. "How?"

"I looked you up." It feels like my heart stops beating as I wait for her reaction. _I'm fucking nervous._ I don't do nervous.

"Oh," Her eyes dart down to her plate and then back up to meet mine again. "Why?"

I take a deep breath. "Because I wanted to know more about you."

She doesn't say anything for a long time; she just stares down at her fingers, tracing the edge of her plate. _What can I say?_ What can I tell her to make her see that I'm not the kind of creep she probably thinks I am?

Her fingers come to a stop and she looks up at me again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything." _At least she's still talking to me._

"Why did you ask me to dinner?"

_Because I desperately want to fuck you. _I take a deep breath, swallowing back my initial response. "Because I wanted to see you again."

"Did you…" She hesitates. "Did you know I work at the club?"

I sigh. _There's no point in lying. _"Yes."

Disappointment flashes across her face. "Oh" _No. No, no, no, Anastasia. It's not like that._

"Look Anastasia, I…" _I what?_ _I saw you dancing at the club and became obsessed with the thought of Dominating you. _I sigh. "My brother dragged me to that club and I was about ready to leave when I saw you there. You took my breath away. I've never seen anything more beautiful or sexy than you, dancing on that stage."

_Took my breath away?_ What am I…a love-sick teenager? _I don't do love._ I don't believe in love. I believe in lust. _Well, I guess lust can take your breath away as well…_

"So you, you knew…what I do…when you asked me to dinner the other day?" Her eyes widen as a realization has suddenly dawned on her. "Is that why you asked me to dinner?"

The answer plops out of my mouth before I can stop it. "No" _Wasn't it?_ "I just…" _Honesty,_ I decide. Honesty is the best way to go. "I want you, Anastasia."

She doesn't say anything, she simply looks at me with those gorgeous blue eyes wide-open. _I'm screwed. _

"It's not what you think, Anastasia." _Isn't it? Isn't it exactly what she thinks?_ I saw her strip-show and now I want to fuck her. "I want you so bad I can't think straight around you." _Or anywhere else for that matter._

"So why did you stop?"

The question catches me off-guard. I would have anticipated anger, or disgust, or anything but this soft, curious tone of voice. "What?"

"Earlier," she blushes. "In bed, when we were kissing. Why did you stop?"

I let out a breath of air. "Because I made a mistake." My voice sounds harsh, harsher than I intended – but I really don't like being reminded of the fact that I lost control. "I shouldn't have let myself get carried away like that." _I never get carried away._

"Oh." She bites down on her lip again and I feel my cock twitch in response. _I can swear her bottom lip has a direct line to my crotch._

"Don't do that, Anastasia." I growl, trying to forget the feel of her flesh between my teeth.

"Do what?" The innocent look on her face makes my cock pulse and ache with want even more. _Is she doing that on purpose?_

"Bite your lip like that. It does things to me." _And it makes me want to do things to you. _

She smiles and then sinks her teeth into that delicious lip of hers again. There's a playful twinkle in her eyes and I hear, rather than feel, a sharp intake of breath passing through my lips. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into Anastasia."

"So, enlighten me." There's a challenging tone in her voice and the sudden urge to fuck her into submission almost overshadows every sense and reason.

I take a couple of seconds thinking about icebergs and cold showers before I answer. "I'm a complicated man."

She tilts her head slightly to the side. _Adorable –_ Iadd that to the ever growing list of adjectives describing the wonder that is Anastasia Rose Steele."Complicated how?"

_Okay_, here goes nothing. "I tell you what, with that ankle I doubt you're working tonight, right?" _Or ever again if I have any say in it._ And I always have a say.

Her face drops, as if she hadn't thought about how the injury would affect her ability to work. "Right."

I offer her a smile, for no other reason than wanting to replace that sad look on her face with one of her glorious smiles. "So, come to my place for dinner tonight and I'll show you just how complicated I am and then you can decide whether you want to get yourself into it or not."

"Why can't you just tell me now?" She shrugs her shoulders.

_Impatient, are we Anastasia? _I can't stop a smug smile from creeping onto my lips. "I think it's better that I show you."

An expression of suspicion flitters over her face, but it disappears just as quickly and she nods. "Okay."

"Good." I stand up from my chair. "I'll have Taylor come pick you up, say at seven?"

She nods again. "Are you leaving?" _Oh, fuck! I could kiss her senseless right here and now for not hiding the disappointment in her voice._

I smile as I walk over to her side of the table and crouch down so we're at eye-level. "I have to Anastasia, I'm seconds away from throwing you up on this table and ravishing you and right now, I don't think that'd be a great idea" _Not until you've signed a contract and an NDA and are aware of what you're getting yourself into._

Her mouth drops wide open, pulling at my very last reserves of self-control, I stand back up. "Eat your breakfast and I'll see you tonight, Anastasia." I can't even count how many times I've used her name this morning, but I just love the sound of it. Even the sound of her name is enough to get me hard.

I call Taylor to come pick me up as I head down the stairs and shake my head in disbelief as I put the phone away. _This is fucking unreal._ If this weren't the 21th century, I would have sworn she was a witch with a spell cast over me.


	8. Chapter 8

**For all eyes to see – Chapter 8**

* * *

I look inside the oven where the chicken-something that Gail prepared earlier is kept on warm. It looks really good, but I haven't got the slightest idea what it is. Gail told me before she left, but I was busy thinking about the possible different outcomes of tonight's dinner.

At that particular moment, when Gail told me what she had cooked for dinner, I think I was musing over the idea of Anastasia throwing herself in my arms at the sight of the playroom and confessing that she can't really come properly unless she's restrained in some way.

Of course, less happy – and probably more realistic – thoughts have crossed my mind as well during the course of the day; Anastasia turning at the doorstep to the playroom and running for the hills or Anastasia's face tainted with disgust and horror as she realizes what I want to do with her. But those thoughts aren't as pleasant as the non-realistic one's and who knows – after tonight they might be all I have.

There's an entire farm of fucking butterflies in my stomach and I hate it. _What is it about this girl that affects me like this?_ I can't remember a single day in my life where I've ever been this nervous before. Not even the first time I stepped into Elena's playroom or my very first day as CEO of my own company. _I don't do nervous._ I do cool and controlled, collected.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pick it up and answer it with a growl to hide the shaky nervousness I'm sure will display at any attempt to sound normal. "Grey."

"Miss Steele is in the elevator on her way up." Taylor informs me and the butterflies in my stomach go beyond crazy.

"Thank you." I close my phone as I walk towards the hallway and fix my eyes on the elevator doors.

* * *

Despite both our efforts to maintain light and breezy dinner conversation, the tension in the room is palpable and Anastasia seems to be far more interested in her wine than her food; the latter which she mostly pushes around the plate.

"You're not eating." I scold, feeling a frown form on my forehead.

"It's just…" She inhales and then lets out a deep breath. "I'm nervous."

"Me too," I smile as the confession leaves my lips. _What the fuck?_ It's one thing to _be_ nervous – I've reluctantly reconciled with that, but to confess it? Why don't I just hand her a whip and let her have every last shred of control, because that's where this is heading. _Fuck!_

I put my fork down and rub my face with my hands before I make the decision. _There's no point in delaying this any longer._ "I'll be right back." I inform her as I stand up and head towards my office.

When I come back, carrying the NDA with me, Anastasia is twirling the wine glass in her hand and biting down on her lip. _Oh, that lip!_ Patience, I tell myself. Soon enough it will be _my_ turn to bite down on that lip.

I take a deep breath and hand her the NDA as I sit back down on my chair. "This is a non-disclosure agreement." I explain. "My lawyer insists I do this in order to protect my privacy."

She takes the paper with a small frown forming on her forehead. "What does this agreement entail?"

I force my voice not to display my impatience. "You can't tell anyone about what I'm about to show you or the things we might end up doing."

She looks down at the paper again and I watch her as she reads through it. Every second feels like an hour before she finally looks up. "Okay." She nods. "Do you have a pen?"

My heart starts beating wildly in my chest as I hand her the pen I brought with me from my office. She signs the NDA and hands both that and the pen back to me.

With an uneasy feeling I look at the food left on her plate, but as the anxiety and anticipation made it hard even for me to empty my plate, I'll leave it for now. We can always heat it up again later. _That is if she doesn't sprint for the elevator the second I show her my playroom._

I stand up from my chair and reach my hand out towards her to help her get to her feet. "Come." My voice sounds husky, but I can't help it. I'm just glad I'm able to form words at all with all the butterflies coming to life again in my stomach.

Anastasia takes my hand and that strange current that seems to flow through my body every time we touch catches me off guard. Her wide eyes and slightly parted lips, through which a gasp just passed, tell me she felt it too.

I inhale a deep breath as Anastasia gathers her crutches before I start leading her in the direction of my playroom. _Why do I feel like I'm headed toward death row? _We climb the short set of stairs with some struggle on her part and when I see the door to playroom, the impending doom hangs over me like a dark cloud. _Dead man walking._

I stop outside the door and turn to Ana. _This is it._ The point of no return, she rests against her crutches and eyes me curiously.

My hands are sweating and I don't know what to do with them, so I put them in my pockets. "Just remember Anastasia…" I start, surprised that the anxiety doesn't show itself in my voice. "…that you can walk out of here whenever you want. Just say the word and I will have Taylor drive you back home."

She nods.

_Okay._ Here we go. I unlock the door, open it and gesture for her to step inside.

Anastasia carefully limps inside, her gaze fixed on her feet as she manages the crutches across the threshold and into the room. When she finally looks up, she freezes and I hear her gasp loudly.

I bite back the explanations and excuses that are weighing on the tip of my tongue. _I need to give her time to take it all in._ At least she's not running, which I'm guessing would be rather hard in her current condition.

Without saying anything, she starts moving again, slowly making her way around the playroom and taking it all in. Her expression shows nothing of what she might think and I make an effort to copy that stance. _I can't let her know how badly I want this._

Her teeth sink into her lip as she stops again in the middle of the room and looks around. She still says nothing. Her eyes linger a moment on the St. Andrew's cross and I can't help but picture her strapped to it wearing nothing but maybe a pair of those teasingly small panties she wears on stage.

"Are you…," Her words get stuck in her throat and she clears it before she turns around to face me and tries again. "Are you dominant or submissive?"

I can't speak. My heart is literally jumping in joy. _She knows about the lifestyle!_ She's not running for the hills or screaming in horror – she's interested enough to ask questions and she knows what kind of playroom this is. I dare to take a step closer.

"I'm a Dominant." I say and she nods.

"Makes sense," She replies with a small tug at the corner of her lips that, with some good will, could be interpreted as a smile. _I have a lot of good will at the moment._

"So you're familiar with this kind of lifestyle?" The question is rather redundant, seeing as she's kind of already told me that with her question, but I'm hoping my question will lead her to reveal more.

"Not really." My heart sinks and she shrugs as she looks around the room again. "One of the girls at the club is a submissive and she likes to talk about it to anyone who's willing to listen – or anyone that just happens to be close by for that matter." She looks around the room again. "I've always wondered what a playroom looked like."

_Oh, Anastasia._ I close my eyes for a moment; the sight of her in my playroom is too distracting. _I would love to show you all the things I can do to you in here._

I can't stop myself from voicing the question. "Does it live up to your expectations?"

She faces me again. "I guess so, although I'm not sure I understand what it's all for. The bed I can understand, but the rest…" She drifts off as her eyes wander over the room again.

I smile and dare to take another step closer. "I would love to show you if you'd let me." The smile that appears on her face at my offer goes right to my crotch and I feel my cock twitching.

I have to force the next words out of my mouth. "But first there are a couple of things we need to discuss and I find it really hard to concentrate with you in here." Her eyes widen, but she only nods in response.

"Let's go to my office." I say, moving towards the door, holding it open as she skips through it.

We walk in silence all the way to my office and I pull a chair out for her to sit in before I sit down behind my desk.

"So, what has your friend told you about a Dominant/Submissive relationship?" I ask once we're finally settled and I've got her attention.

"Well…" She blushes and looks down at her lap. "…I know it's about control and submission."

I nod. "What else?"

Her blush deepens. "Pleasure and pain," She whispers. "Restraints and such."

I nod again. "I would want you as my submissive, Anastasia." I tell her and her eyes dart up from her lap.

"What?"

"With your injury, I doubt you'll be able to work either of your jobs for the healing period of approximately two weeks. For that period, I would like you to be my submissive."

She's still staring at me, without saying a word.

"Please say something, Anastasia," I plead and watch her teeth sink into her lip. "I told you what that lip-biting does to me." I growl and she releases her lip, leaving her mouth slightly open.

"How would that work?" She finally asks, after an eternity of silence.

"I usually draw up a contract with my submissives." I inform her. "Stating what goes and what does not and the rules I would like you to follow."

Her eyes widen again. "Have you had many submissives?" She cringes when the question leaves her mind and I suspect she regrets asking it.

"A couple," There's no need to develop that further.

"How many?" _Apparently, there is. _I sigh.

"Fifteen."

"Oh." Her eyes dart back to her lap and silence ensues yet again.

"I would like you to take a look at the contract, to give you an idea of what I'll be expecting of you as my submissive." _And to get things rolling so I can get you in my playroom._ The wait seems even more unbearable now that I know she's not running for the hills.

"Okay," She nods and takes the papers I had prepared before she came over. It's my standard contract, with a few additions to the availability clause due to the short term the contract spans. In additions to the usual weekends, she will come to Escala on Tuesday afternoons and Thursday mornings, as I have both relatively free for the upcoming two weeks.

I wait impatiently in silence as she reads through the contract. Just like earlier in the playroom her face doesn't give anything away, only an occasional twitch of an eyebrow, which I'm not sure whether it's a good or a bad sign.

When she finally looks up from the papers, there's a hint of sadness in her eyes and something else I can't quite place…disappointment?

She clears her throat before she speaks and the words that come out of her mouth feels like punches to my stomach. "Thank you Mr. Grey, I'm flattered, but I'm not into those kinds of things."

_No._ I can't accept that. She seemed so interested only a few minutes ago. "What exactly is it that bothers you, Anastasia?"

She inhales and closes her eye for a few seconds as to gather her strength. When she opens them again, she looks straight at me. "Let me just get this straight; I'm a stripper, not a hooker."

Her statement takes me aback. _I sure hope so_. "That's not what this about," Even I can distinctly hear the shock in my voice.

"Really?" She turns her eyes back to the contract.

"She is now the property of the Dominant." She quotes from the contract while looking up and raising an eyebrow in my direction. "The Submissive shall submit to any sexual activity demanded by the Dominant." She flips a page in an agitated manner before she continues quoting the contract. "The Dominant will provide a clothing budget for the Submissive." She runs her finger along the sentences of the appendix containing the rules. "All costs will be met by the Dominant."

I sigh. "You don't understand…"

She holds her hand up to interrupt me. "I'm sure there's more in here, if I just give it time." She says as she folds the papers. "But I don't think that's necessary." She struggles herself up from the chair and retrieves her crutches and I feel panic rising in the pit of my stomach and spreading throughout my body.

"If you want a sex toy to be at your beck and call in exchange for expensive clothes and spa-treatments, I'm sure there are plenty of girls out there that will throw themselves at the opportunity," She takes a deep breath. "I can see myself out." And with that, she turns around surprisingly gracefully, despite her injury, and makes her way towards the door.

Stunned, I stare at the door through which she disappeared. What just happened? No one has ever refused me before. Where did it go wrong? She didn't seem to be too bothered by the playroom or the items in it.

_No._ I shake my head to myself. She has misunderstood it all. I don't want her to be my sex toy or my hooker – I want her to be my submissive. There's a huge different.

She seemed so curious and interested until the contract came up. I push my chair out and stand up and before I know it, I'm rushing towards the elevator; consumed by the one thought that I can't let her leave. I can't let her walk out of here without at least a promise to reconsider the contract.

I reach the elevator just as the doors are about to close, and without thinking I slide into the elevator and am met by her wonderful blue eyes, wide-open and staring at me as if I'm a wild animal about to attack.

The elevator starts moving and without taking my eyes off her, I reach out to push the emergency stop button. "We're not done talking," I say with a surprisingly strong voice as the elevator slows down and comes to a stop between my floor and the floor below.


	9. Chapter 9

Some of you are asking for Ana's point of view. I won't be writing that in this story – at least not yet. There are a couple of things about her that I would want to remain a mystery both for you and for Christian a little while longer…

* * *

**For all eyes to see – Chapter 9**

* * *

**Recap from last chapter:  
**The elevator starts moving and without taking my eyes off her, I reach out to push the emergency stop button. "We're not done talking" I say with a surprisingly strong voice as the elevator slows down and comes to a stop between my floor and the floor below.

* * *

Anastasia shakes her head slowly, with that sad look still on her face. "I have nothing else to say."

_No._ I shake my head too. _This can't be it. I won't let it._ "You don't even want to negotiate?"

_What the fuck is that? _Apart from the soft limits – I don't negotiate my contract. This is my rules; if you can't abide by them then I'll move on to someone who can.

"What's there to negotiate?" Her soft voice effectively halts my inner conversation and without thinking I reply:

"Anything you have a problem with." My own words catch me by surprise. _What am I doing?_

She shakes her head again. "I would just really want to leave right now"

I pinch my eyes shut and take a deep breath. _What can I say to make her stay? To make her change her mind? I really need this. _I need to get her out of my head so I can function as a normal human being again.

For the second time today, I decide that being honest is the best way to approach this matter. I take a step closer to her as I start to speak. "Yesterday, I lost a million dollar deal because I couldn't stop thinking about you and the things I want to do to you." Anastasia's eyes widen in shock and she opens her mouth to say something. Taking another step closer, I shake my head and place my index-finger across her lips to quiet her.

"You want to know the worst part?" She nods, her eyes still wide and staring into mine. "I don't even care."

I throw my head back and let out a bitter laugh. "I don't even fucking care!"

When I let my head back down again, I find her staring at me as if I'm crazy. _Well, I most probably am._

I slide my hand from her lips and instead cup her cheek in it in a soft caress. "What I _do_ care about on the other hand is getting you to agree to being my submissive." I close my eyes again and take another deep breath. "It's all I care about right now." I say as I open them again. "So tell me what I need to do to make that happen."

I release her cheek from my caress and take a step back. The ball is in her corner now. _I hate not being in control of the ball. _I hate not being in control, period.

She opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it again. "I don't know." She throws her hands out, resigned. "I'm not sure this will work."

I fight to keep my voice steady and not to give into the anger at her evasive answer or the nervousness over her impending departure that both fights to take it over. "Tell me what bothers you about the contract."

Slowly, her teeth sink into her lip but when she looks up to meet my eyes and see the look in them, which I'm sure reflects pure lust, she quickly releases it. "All of it."

And with those three words my world comes crumbling down.

The rejection stings even worse than I thought it would. I had anticipated a rejection when I showed her the playroom. I was prepared for it then.

_But she didn't run._ Against my knowing better I got my hopes up when she didn't run and that made the fall so much harder. _She seemed interested for fuck's sake!_

_"__I would love to show you if you'd let me"_ My own words from earlier in the playroom comes flowing back to me, but more importantly: the picture of her smile as I said those words comes flowing back to me.

"But you liked the playroom?" I try and after a long wait she finally nods.

"Some of it." Her voice is practically a whisper.

"That's good." I try to sound encouraging, but have a feeling I'm failing miserably at it.

Silence ensues and I see Anastasia glancing at the control panel. _No._ She can't leave yet. Not until...not until what? Until she's told me she doesn't want this five more times? How many times will I need to hear it before it sinks in?

"But you didn't like the contract?" It's already pretty obvious she doesn't, but I have to say something to prolong this conversation – to prevent her from leaving.

"No, I didn't." She simply says, but at least her eyes move from the control panel and onto me.

"Can't you tell me specifically what you didn't like about the contract?" I try again, hoping that this time I'll get some clue to how I can turn this situation around.

Ana sighs, I'm sensing she's getting tired of my questions, but I can't let this go. Not yet. "I don't like the fact that there is a contract at all."

"That's the way this needs to be done." My voice is stern. Non-negotiable. "For both our sakes."

She laughs. "For both our sakes?" She gestures wildly with her hands, almost making her fall over her crutches. "Really, Christian? For both our sakes?"

"Yes." My hard voice puts a stop to her laughter, but she still shakes her head in disbelief. "Hard limits, soft limits – they're there to ensure nothing goes out of hand."

She nods. "The limits I can understand. But the rest?" She presses her lips together into a thin line. "How is stating in writing that you _own_ me supposed to be for _my_ sake? That's all your twisted fantasies and I will take no part in that. I'm not someone's property."

I feel the anger rising inside me. She's twisting the words.

A second wind comes over her and she continues in an agitated voice. "And the clothes and spa-treatments? That's just a nicer way to write: payment. News flash: not all strippers can be bought. In fact, most of us don't do that."

I open my mouth to give her a piece of my mind. She's making assumptions and just flat-out accused me of _buying_ my submissives. News flash for you Miss Steele: I don't have to fucking pay for sex! _Just give me a couple of minutes and I'll have you begging for me to take you._

But my momentum is lost as Anastasia reaches forward and presses the elevator button. The look on her face is defiant and she avoids looking at my face as the elevator slowly makes it way to the ground floor.

Even though there are a thousand things I would like to say – or rather shout – to her after her little speech, neither of us say a word. When the elevator doors finally open, Ana limps through them and with a weird sense of loss I neither understand nor like, I turn to push the code to bring me back up to my apartment and let her go.

If she doesn't want a contract – _fine!_ I gave it a try, it didn't work: now I know and now I can move on. There are plenty of girls out there that understand the need of a contract and the difference between being _mine_ and being bought.

I don't need Miss Steele and her ridiculous assumptions.

* * *

I spent all of last night convincing myself that I don't need Miss Anastasia Steele. I have no desire to have a submissive that is under the impression that I'm paying her – or anyone else for that matter – to come into my playroom with me.

Still, here I am: parked outside her apartment building where I just happened to swing by on my way to work. _What the fuck am I doing here?_

No. I turn the key and start the car.

Just as she told me I shouldn't – which I didn't – assume that she is a prostitute only because she strips; she shouldn't assume I want to buy people off only because I'm rich. The clothes and the spa-treatments are out of care for my subs – and for me; to groom them to my likings – and not to be considered as any kind of payment.

I glance at the apartment building one last time through the review mirror before I turn the street and head for GEH. _I don't fucking need her – she's replaceable just like everyone else! _

* * *

I occupy myself at work until it starts getting dark outside. I even ate both lunch and dinner at my desk while reading through contracts. I won't allow my mind even the slightest chance to dart in Miss Steele's way.

It's fair to say my employees have been on their toes all day and I'm pretty sure Andrea sighed with relief when I told her to leave for the day about three hours ago. _I don't give a fuck. _I'm dead-set on working until I fall asleep from exhaustion and then pick it up again the second I wake up.

Last night before I finally fell asleep I went to dial Anastasia's number no less than five times with my thumb hovering over the 'call' button before I thought better of it. I don't want a repeat of that. A few days of burying myself in work should do the trick.

And with my mind being elsewhere all of last week – there's no risk I'll run out of work to do. Maybe there's even a chance I can salvage the deal I lost. I'll probably have to budge on a few points to get them to look in our direction again, but I'm pretty sure it's doable. And it will keep me well occupied.

It takes about an hour before I give up. I'm restless and I can't focus any longer. Somehow Anastasia seems to work her way into my thoughts between mergers and acquisitions and I can't get her to leave.

For a moment I ponder the option of maybe calling one of my old subs up and have them come over for a night in my playroom – surely that would get Anastasia out of my mind. But for some reason I can't bring myself to action on the matter.

Maybe I should call Flynn? I haven't told him about my obsession with wanting to fuck this girl yet. I don't really know why. I guess I feared he would tell me to forget about it. _Which would have been the reasonable thing to do._

I pick my phone up, but somehow I can't bring myself to call him either and the reason why has been lurking in the back of my mind all day and now it comes racing in full speed towards the conscious parts of my brain: I don't want to be told to give up. Not yet. _I'm Christian fucking Grey and I don't give up until I've gotten what I want._

With that determination in mind, I grab my jacket and head for the elevator.

* * *

Having sped across town, nothing but luck standing between me and a hefty ticket, I have finally reached my destination: Anastasia's apartment building.

Without giving it a second thought, I get out of the car, head for the entrance and press the code I memorized that night I carried Anastasia to her apartment. _Was it really only two days ago?_

I take the steps two at a time and thanks to my regular workouts my breathing isn't even affected when I reach her floor and knock on her door.

It doesn't take long before I hear footsteps approaching the door, and when I hear the lock turning I put on my most panty-wetting smile, ready to charm my way into the apartment and let the convincing begin. This time I won't let her off that easy. If need be, I'll even resort into giving her a taste of the pleasures that awaits if only she'll sign the God damn contract.

The second the door opens, my smile drops however as I'm face to face with a…guy?

Where's Anastasia? I turn to check that I'm on the right floor and of course I am. This is Anastasia's apartment and her roommate sure did look a lot more feminine last time I saw her.

The blonde guy in front of me has a questioning look on his face, but I'm still in shock and can't get any words out – my brain is too busy trying to piece together the little information I know about Anastasia to try and figure where this guy fits in. The info I pulled on her said she was an only child, so he can't be a brother.

"If you're looking for Kate, she doesn't get back until tomorrow." The guy informs me, with a smile too big and too bright plastered on his face.

_Who is this fucker and what is he doing in Anastasia's apartment?_

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry, I just really have a thing for ending chapters with a cliff-hanger – I can't help it, it's like a disease! I promise I'll work hard to get the next chapter out as soon as possible, although I'm guessing most you will have figured out how 'the fucker' in Ana's apartment is before that…


	10. Chapter 10

Okay…I know I've been ignoring this story for too long. I'm sorry about that, I just got crazy inspired on writing on another of my stories.

Also, I've changed the physical description of 'the fucker' in Ana's apartment – therefore I'll include a recap of the last paragraphs in the previous chapter so you don't have to go back to see the changes. I did this because as I started writing, I got stuck and when the solution came to me I just couldn't pass on the opportunity at hand… You'll see what I'm talking about towards the end of this chapter.

And…I know it's short, but as I haven't posted in a while I thought I might as well post what I have since it might be a couple of days before I get the time to sit down and write again.

* * *

**For all eyes to see – Chapter 10**

* * *

**Recap from last chapter:**

The blonde guy in front of me has a questioning look on his face, but I'm still in shock and can't get any words out – my brain is too busy trying to piece together the little information I know about Anastasia to try and figure where this guy fits in. The info I pulled on her said she was an only child, so he can't be a brother.

"If you're looking for Kate, she doesn't get back until tomorrow." The guy informs me, with a smile too big and too bright plastered on his face.

_Who is this fucker and what is he doing in Anastasia's apartment?_

* * *

"I'm here for Anastasia." I inform him in my most business-like, CEO, taking-control-over-the-situation voice.

"Oh." His smile diminishes slightly and he looks over his shoulder into the apartment and then back at me. "She's a bit immobile at the moment." Another glance over his shoulder. "Hang on a second."

Before I have the opportunity to say anything further, he vanishes into the apartment and I invite myself in by stepping over the threshold. I hear both Anastasia's and the fucker's voice coming from another room, but I can't make out any words.

After a while, the voices die down and are replaced by the sound of Anastasia making her way to the door on her crutches. "Mr. Grey." She says as she enters the room.

I look over her shoulder, wondering where the fucker disappeared to and how freely I can speak.

She catches on almost immediately. "Ethan is in Kate's room uploading a set of photos to her computer." She informs me. "He can't hear us."

I nod and close the door behind me, making sure no nosy neighbors are listening in on the conversation we're about to have.

"I'm going crazy, Anastasia." I tell her honestly. "Tell me what I need to do to make this happen." _I'll do fucking anything._

She looks tired as if the question I just posed has been haunting her just as much as it has me. "I don't know." She shakes her head, but stops suddenly as something lights up in her eyes and a small smile forms in the corner of her mouth. "You could start by asking me out on a date. You know, like normal people do."

"A date?" Her smile grows and I'm sure the horror in my voice is vividly reflected in my eyes.

"Yes." She nods. "You know; dinner, talking, getting to know each other. A date. Most women prefer that as a method of seduction rather than getting a contract thrown at them."

I resist the impulse to tell her that of all the women I've presented the contract to so far, she's the only one that has declined it. "I don't date." I inform her instead.

She rolls her eyes and I feel my palm twitching. "And I don't sell myself, so where does that leave us Mr. Grey?"

An exasperated sigh leaves my lips without my permission. "I really want you, Anastasia."

"I want you too." She confesses, but as I take a step closer, she puts her hand up between us to stop me. I back down before she touches me.

"I still don't want to be bought, Mr. Grey or do you prefer I call you 'Sir'?" There's a glint in her eyes and I know she's teasing me and that I shouldn't fall for it. But still, I can't remember the last time a woman teased me and it does something to my mood – it lightens it.

"Well, I think we both know what I would prefer, don't we Miss Steele?" I make sure there is enough sexual suggestion behind the words and feel myself strangely amused as she blushes. _Who could have guessed – sexual implications makes the stripper blush. _Interesting.

"Okay." I hear myself growl. "I'll take you out on a date." _Where the hell did that come from?_ I don't date. Christian Grey Does. Not. Date. I sigh. But in this case…it might be worth the trouble. One date. I guess I could do that if it means I'll get her off my mind.

A smile lights up her face and I feel my lips forming into a smile as well, as if I'm her reflection in a mirror. "Well, thank you for asking me Christian." She enunciates my name distinctly, as if making a point out of using my first name. Oddly enough – I'm still smiling. "I would be most delighted to let you take me out on a date."

"So…" I bid her my arm, feeling caught-up in the light, playful mood she seems to be in. It's very contagious. "…let's go My Lady."

Suddenly the thought of a date doesn't seem all that abhorrent. I can suffer through dinner – hell, she can even have dessert if she wants to – by the end of the night; I'll have her in my playroom.

Instead of taking my arm, she pats it. "Not tonight, Christian."

She's still smiling, but my good mood seems to have disappeared completely. What the fuck does she mean 'not tonight'? "Why?" I cringe at the sound of my own voice; like a whiny child.

"Well, first of all; I'm hanging out with a friend tonight thus I'm not available for a date. Second – "

I cut her off before she can tell me about the second reason. "A friend?"The disbelief is evident in my voice as I suddenly remember the fucker that opened the door like he fucking belonged here.

"Yes." Her voice is stern, the playfulness from before is all gone. "A friend."

I feel like uttering a very unmanly 'Hmph', but luckily – I resist the urge and settle for glaring at her. "And what, pray tell, are you and this _friend_ doing tonight as you _hang out_?" My voice is dripping with not-so-successfully held-back anger.

"Ethan is a close friend, nothing else." She looks completely pissed off – and hot as hell. Angry really does it for her. "And what we do while we hang out is none of your business."

"What if I want to make it my business?" _She's not only declining my contract – she's turning down a date with me tonight in favor of hanging out with that fucker?_ Who does she think she is?

"Well…" She lets out a laugh. _A fucking laugh?!_ "…then I'd say a couple of more dates would be needed before you are allowed to even have an opinion on who I hang or don't hang out with and what we do while hanging out."

A couple of dates? _She's got to be crazy!_ As from nowhere, an idea that will not only deal with the fucker inside her apartment and their _hanging out_ but will also deal with the 'not tonight' issue comes to mind.

"What if we'll make it a double-date?" The words are out of my mouth before I'm able to think my brilliant idea through.

"A double-date?"

"Yeah. Tonight." I'm suddenly excited at the outlook of making the date happen tonight. "My sister just got back from France and I'm sure she will be up for it." _I sure hope she will. I'll bribe her if she isn't or drag her along by the lengths of her hair._

She looks as if she's at least thinking about it and I feel like a fucking horny teenager waiting for her answer. "Let me go ask Ethan and see what he thinks."

_Yeah, go ask the fucker – and if he says no, I'll drag him along by the hair too…_

As Anastasia skips away on her crutches, I take the time to text Mia.

**Double-date tonight. You up for it?**

She answers within a minute. _Does she have the phone glued to her hand or what?_

**DD with U? As in – YOU on a date? You bet I am!**

I sigh deeply. Maybe this wasn't the best idea I've ever had. I hadn't thought about the fact that no one in my family has ever seen me with a girl – let alone on a date. I hope Mia won't make a big deal out of it, but knowing Mia that hope is probably futile. _Well, as long as she keeps the fucker occupied tonight, I'll deal with her later._

"Okay." I'm ripped from my thoughts about how to best explain this to Mia and the rest of my family whom will probably know all about it the second the fucker drops Mia off after our double-date.

"Okay?" I try to hide the smile, all thoughts about my family or explanations vanished from my mind.

Anastasia nods. "Yeah. He thought it sounded fun."

_I don't care what the fucker thinks. _"And you?"

The smile on her lips is shy. "I can't wait."

* * *

About an hour later, we're finally packed into my car and on our way to meet Mia at a restaurant where I managed to get us a table at the last minute thanks to the Grey name. Mia made a grumble about the hurry of it all, but I guess the curiosity got the better of her and when I threatened to exclude her from the double-date she was very compliant and promised to get to the restaurant on time.

When I pull the car up in front of the restaurant, she's already waiting for us outside, impatiently tapping her foot on the ground. She spots us as I hand my keys to the valet and comes tripping towards us on her high heels.

"Mia." I smile as I greet her. Anastasia hasn't gotten out of the car yet and I feel the need to warn her about my sister and her…intensity, so I direct Mia towards Ethan.

"This is Ethan." I point towards the fucker that has gotten out of the car on the same side as me and is now standing next to me ogling my little sister. _The greatness of this idea seems to diminish by the second._ "Your date."

With reluctance, I leave them to talking and introducing themselves and go to help Anastasia out of the car. I meet her half-way around the car.

"I would have helped you." I state, slightly irritated that she didn't wait for me. She could have gotten herself hurt trying to manage those crutches out of the car.

"I know, but I'm getting pretty good at handling these." She nods towards her crutches.

I'm still not happy that she didn't wait for me to help, but I shrug it off for now and place a hand in the small of her back as I guide her towards Mia and the fucker. "I have to warn you, my sister can be a bit intense."

Anastasia nods. "And I take it she's oblivious to how you usually seduce girls by throwing contracts at them?"

I hope my glare is answer enough, because we've gotten too close to my sister for me to feel comfortable discussing this.

I place a hand on Mia's shoulder. "Mia, I'd like you to meet my date." I turn her around to stop her obvious drooling over the fucker. _This really was a bad idea._ "Mia – this is Anastasia."

Mia squeals as she turns around. "You're a girl!" Realizing what she's said, she clasps a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry." She mumbles from behind her hand, all while shaking her head. "It's just…" She takes the hand away from her mouth and gestures wildly with it instead. "You're a girl." She repeats, shock still evident in her voice, and I roll my eyes at her drama. _A really, really bad idea._

Anastasia looks immensely confused. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No." Mia starts shaking her head again. "No. My date is gorgeous and you're a girl. Everything is great."

"Shall we go inside?" I abruptly interrupt Mia's gushing over Ana being a girl. I'm starting to regret inviting her to this double-date. _I should have gotten the fucker a hooker instead._


	11. Chapter 11

**For all eyes to see – Chapter 11**

* * *

"So. Tell me everything." Mia starts the second we're seated around our table. "How did you guys meet?" Her eyes are sparkling and there's a huge smile plastered on her face as she looks between me and Anastasia.

"Umm..." Anastasia starts, her eyes flickering between the table and me.

"That's none of your business." I bark the dismissing words out at the same time as Anastasia tells her we met at the café where she works. _Well, I guess that's not a complete lie._

Mia shoots a glare my way. "So, Anastasia…" She emphasizes the name so that there's no mistake which way she's directing her next question. _Of all the people I know, I had to choose the nosiest one. Great idea. Really, really great. _"…How long have you been dating my brother?"

"This is actually our first date." A shy smile plays on her lips and I reach under the table, taking her hand into mine. I don't know why I do it; I guess I just want to touch any part of her. I feel her looking at me, but I direct my attention towards Mia.

"Please," Anastasia says, now also looking towards my sister. "Call me Ana."

"Ana. I like that." Mia smiles. "You know, Christian never introduced any of his dates to anyone before." If I didn't know better, I would say my sister's smile is a smug one. "I guess that must mean you're special to him."

"Well…uhm…" Ana stutters. "I…I don't…we don't… we haven't…."

"Mia." I interrupt and am rewarded with a relieved sigh from Ana. "Why don't you tell us about France?" Mia looks irritated at the requested change of focus. _Well, though luck – I invited you to entertain the fucker, not to put Ana or myself through the third degree._

I turn to Ethan with an amiable smile. "Mia just got back from France." I explain and resist the childish urge to stick my tongue out towards my little sister as the fucker turns to her wanting to hear all about France.

_There's something about Anastasia's presence that makes me feel light and playful. _I don't understand it or recognize it – but I like it.

As Mia starts telling about her adventures in France to the fucker and Ana; both of whom are listening eagerly, I feel as if I'm floating out of my body. This entire situation feels so unreal. Who is this man that has invited a stripper and her friend to a double-date with his sister? _It certainly isn't me._

I always think things through before making decisions. I think about possible outcomes and I weigh pros and cons. I have a talent for predicting the outcomes of my decisions; I have thousands of people depending on that talent every single fucking day when I sit behind my desk at GEH.

It baffles me that the cons that will without a doubt follow with inviting my sister to a double-date didn't appear to me until it was too late. I will never hear the end of this. _I predict that for the coming year – no, hell, make that the coming five years – I will hear Anastasia's name mentioned each and every time I talk to a member of my family._ It baffles me even more that that thought doesn't disturb me as much as I had expected it to.

With the encouragement of more than a few angry glares sent across the table, Mia eases up on her interrogation and to my great surprise I find that I'm not having a horrible time. I even laugh at a couple of the fucker's jokes and stories without making any effort. And even more so, I enjoy hearing Ana laugh at them.

Her laugh is the most beautiful sound I've ever heard, closely followed by the giggle I heard from her lips at the café, and my lips are drawn into a smile each time I hear it. _What the fuck is she doing to me?_

* * *

I've never really been on a date before, let alone a double-date, but I'm guessing it's a good sign that the four of us forms into separate couples on the side of the street once we're done with dinner and exit the restaurant.

Ever since the dessert, I've been thinking about how to manage to get Ana to myself to convince her to continue this evening with me alone – preferably naked.

I drove the fucker here and I guess that means I should drive him home as well, but I don't want to take the risk of his place being closer to mine and Anastasia insisting I take her home first. I'm guessing that will largely diminish my chances of getting my way with her tonight.

On the other hand, I'm guessing my mother is impatiently awaiting Mia's return to hear every little detail about my date tonight. I have to repress a smirk. If I let Mia drive him home he'll probably think he stands a chance with her. _But Mia would never let mom down like that._

"I had a great time tonight." Ana's voice rips me away from my thoughts. She's smiling that wonderful smile and I feel warm inside.

"Me too, actually."

She giggles. "I'm glad."

I take a step closer to her. "Let Mia take Ethan home." I mumble as I softly caress her cheek, placing a stray hair behind her ear. The gesture is so unlike anything I've ever done, but it seems to come so naturally with her. I don't even think around her – I just act.

I need to get her alone. I need to take back control. I need to have her naked and squirming beneath me, begging for me to take her. Right at this moment I don't care whether it happens in her bed between her pink, flower-patterned sheets or in my playroom with her cuffed and restrained to the cross, or the bed, or the grid in the ceiling. Of course I would prefer the latter but I would also jump at the chance of the former. _I just want her so bad._

"That would be kind of unnecessary as we're going to the same place." Her soft voice is like music to my ears. I could just listen to her talk all day long. _That's a new one – I've never been interested in what a sub has to say before._ At least not outside the playroom.

"I'm sure Mia wouldn't…" I cut myself off as the meaning of her words register in my brain. _Oh, hell no!_ "What's that supposed to mean?" My voice has turned to ice and a frown forms on her forehead at the sound of it.

"Ethan is staying with me and Kate until he's found his own place to live." She explains as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Kate, your roommate that doesn't get back until tomorrow?" If my voice gets any chillier, we'll probably freeze to death in an instant. _She's delusional if she thinks I'll ever leave her alone with the fucker._

"Yes." She states with a finality in her voice I don't like. _We're not done discussing this matter._

I hear myself growl something incoherent as I grab her by the arm and drag her along with me further away from Mia and the fucker. She limps along without too much of a resistance and I stop once we're out of hearing-distance from anyone.

"I'm not leaving you alone with him." This is my Dominant voice and I expect nothing less than utter obedience.

"Ethan?" She sighs, exasperated. "We've been friends since we were kids."

"So?" _I really don't see how that would make things better._

"So he's like a brother to me." She emphasizes the word 'brother' as if that would make a difference. He _isn't_ her brother; therefore I don't see how it's supposed to make a difference.

"Besides," She continues. "Wasn't it just a couple of hours ago that we established that I hardly know you and you can't dictate how or with whom I spend my time?" She tilts her head and tries on a little smile. _Oh, I'm not falling for that._

"I might not be experienced in the dating-area…" I can't help the threatening tone in my lowered voice. _I don't know where it came from._ "…but I doubt it's considered good dating manners to spend the night with another man after I take you out on a date."

With a smacking sound, Anastasia's hand lands across my cheek. _I did not see that coming._ I stand staring at her in shock only to find her staring back at me with the very same expression of shock written all over her face.

"I'm sorry." She clasps her hand over her mouth and gasps.

"It's okay." I force my lips into a smile. "It isn't the first time I've been slapped." _Or worse…_

"It's just…" She shakes her head. "We were having such a great time and then you had to go ruin it all."

I sigh. _I don't know what to say._ I'm afraid that if I open my mouth I will ruin what little chance I still might have with her.

She shakes her head slowly from side to side. "Would you please take me home now?"

_No. _"Ana, please." I reach my hand out towards her and she looks down at it as I place it on top of hers which is resting on the handle of her crutch. I hear her inhale a deep breath and brace myself for what's to come. _I've fucked it all up._

All I had to do was play gentleman for a night and take her out on a date and everything I wanted would have been within reach. If she hadn't slapped me already, I would have punched myself in the face.

"Ethan isn't spending the night _with_ me; he's spending the night in the apartment I share with his sister, sleeping on the couch. There isn't nor will there ever be anything other than friendship between us."

_The fucker is Kavanagh's brother?_ That kind of gives him a valid reason for being in the apartment in the first place, I have to admit that. _But still…I don't like it._

"Now, will you please take us home?" She demands and I sigh. _This is not how it was supposed to happen._

* * *

The drive home was a quiet one and I think everyone lets out a sigh of relief as I pull the car up outside Ana's apartment building. The fucker tried to start a conversation a couple of times, but no one really picked on his tries and eventually he gave up. I, on the other hand, might have the lost the battle – but I'm not giving up on the war.

I will do whatever it takes to get back into Ana's good graces and repair whatever damage I've caused tonight. _I have to if I'm to ever get her into my playroom._

"What are you doing?" Anastasia stops her movements to free herself from the seat-belt and her gaze travels to the lock of my seat-belt, which just unlocked.

"I'll walk you to your door of course. Don't gentlemen do that?" I try to smile. I'm in no mood for making jokes, but I need to make her smile again.

I feel like I've won the lottery when she smiles back. "I haven't met that many, but I guess they do."

"I'll wait for you inside." The fucker says as he gets out of the car and I think I see him rolling his eyes. I don't really care though as long as he leaves us alone.

I get out of the car and hurry around it to assist Ana in getting out as well.

"Thank you." She's still smiling and that warm feeling inside is back in full force, heating up my entire body.

But the entrance is too close; it only takes a few steps until we're standing in front of it. Ana looks down at her feet, her confident demeanor completely vanished.

"I had a good time tonight." She repeats the words she said outside restaurant to break the silence. "Until…you know…." She shrugs.

I reach my hand out and place a finger under her chin, urging her to look up and meet my eyes. _This is the one part of dating I'm pretty sure I'll actually be good at._

I lean in closer to give her a hint to what I'm about to do; raise the anticipation. "I've heard that it's protocol to end a date with a kiss." I whisper and hear her breathing pick up speed.

"Yes, I think it is." She breathes out.

Slowly I move closer and wait until our lips are almost touching before I pull back slightly. "Unless you feel I forfeited that benefit earlier outside the restaurant." I do my very best to try and sound honestly regretful. _But I know she will want me to kiss her._ _She will beg me to._

"No." She whispers and then it all happens very fast. She places a hand on the back of my neck and pulls me towards her as she crashes her lips against mine. I think I see stars flying behind my eyelids as I wrap my arms around her and pull her body closer when I kiss her back with a hunger and a frenzy unlike the kinds of anything I've ever felt before.


	12. Chapter 12

Sorry for the wait (seems I'm saying that a lot lately…). Thank you for all your wonderful reviews – I'll make sure to respond to them personally but I figured you'd rather have an update by now.

I hope I didn't go way too far out of character with Christian in this chapter, but once I started writing, I just couldn't help myself…

* * *

**For all eyes to see - Chapter 12**

* * *

Once I'm settled in at my office, I find myself staring blankly at the screen of my computer as I twirl my phone in my hand. There are about a dozen emails that demand my attention, half of them flagged as 'urgent', but I can't seem to bring myself to open any single one of them.

_Just how badly did I screw up last night?_ The kiss at the end of the night tells me all hope isn't lost, but before that… She was pretty pissed. She even slapped me. She fucking slapped me.

Strangely enough, the more I think about it – the more turned on I get. Not in a 'I want her to dominate me and slap me on a daily basis' kind of way, but the way she stood up for herself. _That's actually kind of hot._

Of course, it would have been even hotter if she'd agreed to let Mia drive the fucker home and given me the chance to give her a second tour of my playroom. With a little show and tell included.

But I screwed up and now what? Do I need to take her on another date and hope that one will end up in my playroom or should I simply call her and ask her if that was enough? I sigh. _This is not my territory. _

Maybe I should start by trying to repair whatever damage I did when I opened my big mouth and insinuated that she were planning to spend the night with the fucker. _But how do I do that?_

On a whim, I open the web browser on my computer and type the word 'dating' into the google search field. _I need to repair the damage I've done._ Surely there must be some tips and pointers out there. I can't be the only one in the world completely lost in the world of dating.

Within seconds link after link leading to pages that offer different kinds of dating services appear and I frown. _That's not what I'm looking for. _I already know who it is I want to date. _I just need to know how._

Not that I really, truly want to date her – I quickly correct myself. I want her in my playroom. I feel my cock stirring at the mere thought. The dating part is nothing but a means to that end. I don't date.

I try typing 'dating' and then 'damage repair' into the search field instead, but it gives me absolutely nothing useful. I sigh, frustrated. I'm not the computer wiz – that's what I have Welch for. But I can't very well ask for his assistance on this matter.

Erasing the words 'damage repair' I try with 'screw up' instead. I skim through the links.

_10 things not to screw up on a first date_

_How guys screw up first dates_

_10 ways to screw up a first date_

Probably should have done this search _before_ the date. Maybe then I could have fucked her out of my mind by now instead of sitting here worrying about damage repair.

Giving google one last attempt to prove itself, I try the phrase 'after the first date'. The top result is called 'How to act after the first date' and I click it. _God, I'm pathetic._

The page contains a guideline and a number of steps, and after taking a look around my office and assuring that the door is still closed and no one's watching, I decide to indulge in my utter and complete patheticness and dive right in.

**Step 1. Determine how you felt about your date.**

I want to fuck her so bad I can't think about anything else. _Next._

**Step 2. Assess the date from a subjective standpoint.**

I lost my mind and invited my sister to entertain her friend. I screwed up. She got pissed. I got slapped. We kissed. _Done._

**Step 3. Consider how the date ended.**

I've been considering that all night. And this morning in the shower. _Or, to be honest, the considering I did in the shower was more of an alternate ending…_

**4. Follow up in accordance to what you know about the date.**

Yes. This is what I need. How to follow up; what to do next. I skim through the alternatives until I find the line:

**If the date went well and you want to see the person again, then you may want to contact the other person.**

I may want that, yes.

**There is no official dating how-to about when to call back, although 2 to 3 days is a commonly cited timeframe.**

Two to three days? _Fuck that!_ I'm not waiting two to three days. I don't even want to wait two to three hours.

I close the browser and lean back in my chair. Is this how normal people go about trying to get laid? Dates, dinners, estimated timeframes for when to call. _Thank fuck for contracts and rules to avoid this shit._

Maybe that's the way to proceed? Maybe I should rewrite the contract, change the parts she found offending and have it delivered to her. _That's it._ I'll stop by home after my lunch meeting and get to revising my contract. It's just for one night – or maybe I should make it a weekend instead, a night only has so many hours – I don't need to establish that she's mine or buy her things.

But I want that though… Especially the 'establish that she's mine' part. I don't want another fucker showing up out of nowhere thinking he can have her.

When my phone rings and interrupts my train of thoughts, I answer without even looking at the caller-id hoping to hear Anastasia's soft voice on the other end.

"Hey bro! What's up?"

_Elliot. _Not exactly the sweet voice I was hoping for. "It's Tuesday morning, what the fuck do you think is up?"

My all but nice tone does nothing to discourage my brother. He's probably well used to it by now. "Shredding another company to salable pieces?"

I sigh. "That's not all I do you know, but something along the lines of that, yes."

"Mhm." There's a female voice saying something incoherent to my ears in the background and I roll my eyes when I recognize it as my sister's. "So…" Elliot starts after having shushed the voice quiet. "…I heard you went on a date last night."

_Of course Mia told him. _She probably told everyone by now. "Who is she?" He continues when I don't say anything. "Or more important: how did it go?"

"I don't think that's any of your business." My voice is harsh, but I really don't feel like discussing my dating experiences with my brother. He's probably been on more dates than I've been on business meetings.

_He'd probably know how repair the damage. _I push the thought away the second it enters my mind. I'm not sinking to that level. I'm not that desperate. _Yet._

"Oh, come on bro." I hear a door closing and judging by the silence around him I assume he's gone into another room. "You invite Mia along to the date, but you won't give me any details?"

_I can't deal with this right now._ "If I'd known you'd be willing to flirt with Mr. Kavanagh and keep him occupied, I would have called you instead. My apologies."

He snorts. "Who is that guy by the way? She's been talking about him non-stop since I got here."

"He's a friend of Anastasia's."

"So that's her name." I can practically hear the grin on his face. _Like he didn't already know that._

"Yes." I keep my answer short. "He's a friend of Anastasia's."

Elliot chuckles. "Yeah, I can take a hint." _Oh really now, can you? That would be a first._ "I have all respect in the world for the 'don't kiss and tell' attitude." _I bet you do._

"You know…" He continues in his world almighty voice. "…if you ever need any tips or pointers about dating – I'm your man. I don't mean to brag…" I roll my eyes. _Yes you do. _"…but I've been pretty prosperous in that department over the years."

Unwillingly, I have to admit he's right. Whatever the secret of dating is; he's nailed it down to perfection. I can't even count the numbers of pining girls I've seen him with over the years; each and everyone equally smitten with him.

_Maybe…_

Just how far am I prepared to go to increase my chances of finally getting to fuck the living shit out of Miss Anastasia Rose Steele? I know the answer to that. _I wouldn't stop at nothing. _And thanks to my thoughtlessness, my family is already involved in all this.

I take a deep breath. "Hey, Elliot." _Fuck I'm pathetic. Pathetic, horny and ready to be committed._

"Yeah?"

"Hypothetically, if you go on a date and you screw up – what do you do to fix it?" I'm actually asking my brother for dating advice. _Someone please shoot me now._

There's another chuckle on the other end of the line and I wince. "Hypothetically?" He sounds skeptical, but at this point I don't give a fuck.

"Yes." I snap back. "Hypothetically."

He's still chuckling, but at least he has enough self preservation not to pry any further into the matter. "Depends on how badly you screwed up, but flowers usually do the deed." He pauses for a second before he adds: "And groveling. Lots and lots of groveling."

I sigh. _I suspected that…_

* * *

I bite the tip of the pen the sales assistant handed me and look down at the card in front of me. Grovel. How the fuck do you grovel? I've never done that before. I've never needed to.

Taking a quick look at my watch, I deduce that I still have half an hour before I need to get going to make it to my lunch meeting. That also means I've been standing here for ten fucking minutes staring at the fucking card in front of me not knowing what to write on it.

I let out a frustrated grunt as I set pen to paper and start writing the first thing that comes to mind. The word 'grovel' echoing in my mind as a steady reminder.

_I'm sorry about last night. I was out of line and I apologize._

Is that enough groveling? I sure hope so, because that's all she's getting. A thought flitters through my mind and I add:

_But I sure hope the fucker stayed on the couch._

Content with myself, I go to hand the card to the sales assistant so she can add it to the enormous flower arrangement I'm sending to Anastasia's apartment. On my way to the counter, I snatch a new card out of the stand.

I'm not sorry and I don't believe I was out of line asking about the fucker's over-night presence in her apartment. She was on a date with me and told me the fucker was sleeping in her apartment. What the fuck was I supposed to think?

I can grovel – but I won't fucking lie to get in her panties. I am sorry, but only that she got mad and that apparently she feels I screwed up. I discard the card I wrote and instead write

_Dinner at my place at 7?_

on the new one before I hand it to the sales assistant along with Anastasia's address. I pondered adding "_Don't bring the fucker"_ but decided against it at the last minute.

As I exit the store, I stop on the sidewalk, shaking my head in a not-too-comfortable amazement. Not only am I _asking_ my brother for advice on dating – I'm actually following through on his advice as well.

I'm sending fucking _flowers_ to a girl I went on _a date_ with.

I need to call Flynn.


End file.
